


haha dreamteam fishhunt au go brr!

by goodvibes_allaround



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Captain Bad, Crewmate George, Crewmate Sapnap, Drowning, EVERYONE IS FINE THO, M/M, MERMAN DREAM, Manhunt AU, Near Death Experiences, Protective Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), i just like the whole team being together, its not actually a manhunt for very long tbh, the whole motley crew - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodvibes_allaround/pseuds/goodvibes_allaround
Summary: The meager crew had accepted this commission several weeks ago. At the time, accepting an offer from a mysterious cloaked figure who told tales of dangerous sea monsters had seemed like a good idea. He had made it sound simple: bring back the body of the merman only referred to as “Dream.”As it turned out, Dream was exceptionally skilled at being apain in the assand renowned throughout the boat for his exceedingly annoying escapes.Today, George hoped, would be different. Today, he would finally be done with all this hunting nonsense.(If the author might say one thing to him, it would becareful what you wish for).the merman manhunt au, or, as i like to call it, fishhunt au
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 177
Kudos: 635





	1. Chapter 1

The seabreeze gently ruffled George’s hair as he glared at the dusky blue waters. For once, he was getting really fucking tired of all this _blue_.

The _Muffin_ cut a steady pace through the waters. She wasn’t a big vessel, but she was a reliable one. Bought by Bad years ago, she withstood the various adventures of the so-called “Muffinteers.”

(“The _Muffinteers_?” George had asked dubiously.

“Yeah,” Bad said, “Its like the three musketeers, but we’re the three Muffinteers.”

“I do not approve of being a part of the _three Muffinteers_ ,” George snorted.

“ _I_ approve of it,” Bad said smugly.

“Yeah,” Sapnap laughed, “I don’t—I don’t think I wanna join that group.”

Bad frowned at them. “Well, my boat, my rules.”

And so it was.)

Sapnap joined him out front. He squinted into the horizon. 

“It’s been quiet for too long,” he commented. 

George hummed in agreement. It had been a few days with no sign of their quarry. You see, this motley crew and their faithful boat were on a mission. A hunt, of sorts. 

“He’ll show up soon enough,” Sapnap growled. “He always does.” There was an edge in his voice. George knew, secretly, Sapnap loved this. Not only the sailing, but the hunt, too. He lived for the challenge. And this one was _quite_ the challenge. 

Sapnap sighed. “Okay,” he said, “I’m gonna go switch out with Bad. Keep an eye out.”

George snorted. “Obviously.” He hadn’t been doing much else. 

Sapnap sent him a little salute, walking backwards. Then he spun around and disappeared into the cabin. 

Bad emerged a few moments later, stretching his arms above his head. He grinned at George, and George couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Morning!” Bad called. 

George wrinkled his nose and glanced at the sun’s position. “Barely,” he replied.

“Oh, hush.”

George chuckled, looking back out across the water. Nothing had changed. Blue waves caressed the sides of the boat, and white caps appeared on the occasionally aggressive crest. 

“Any sign?” Bad asked, coming over to stand beside George. 

He shook his head. “None today.”

Bad hummed. He crossed over to the port side of the boat, beginning his long shift of lookout duty. 

As it turned out, his long shift would only last around fifteen minutes.

“There he is, there he is!” Bad yelled, rushing over to the side of the boat and pointing wildly. 

George scrambled over to join him, squinting until he saw the telltale yellow scales glint in the sun as they disappeared underwater. His hands clenched around the banister. 

“Sapnap! Turnabout seventy degrees port side!” Bad barked, hurrying to the cabin.

“On it,” Sapnap called back. The window had been thrown open sometime between Bad’s first shout and the order. The boat began its steady turn, aimed at the last sighting. 

The meanger crew had accepted this commission several weeks ago. At the time, accepting an offer from a mysterious cloaked figure who told tales of dangerous sea monsters had seemed like a good idea. He had made it sound simple: bring back the body of the merman only referred to as “Dream.” 

Dream was, supposedly, a highly aggressive and potentially dangerous threat that needed to be dealt with immediately. The cloaked man was very clear that Dream was supposed to be brought back _dead_. He didn’t care how, as long as the merman ended up slain. It seemed so simple. 

As it turned out, Dream was exceptionally skilled at being a _pain in the ass_ and renowned throughout the boat for his exceedingly annoying escapes. 

Today, George hoped, would be different. Today, he would finally be done with all this hunting nonsense.

(If the author might say one thing to him, it would be _careful what you wish for_ ). 

“Dead ahead!” Bad shouted, net gun in hand. 

The boat steadied, and George ran to grab the harpoon. He wasn’t necessarily good at it, but at least he wasn’t losing bolts with every shot. 

Bad fell silent, scanning the water intently. Dream never strayed too far from the surface, even when they were in the middle of a chase. George always wondered why. Wouldn’t it be smarter to simply dive and avoid them altogether? 

George levelled the harpoon on the side of the boat, aiming at the deep waters. His eyes flickered back and forth, keeping a keen eye out for any gleaming yellow scales. 

He waited. He knew Dream saw them. He also knew Dream would most likely engage. Dream had a tendency to show up, throw them into turmoil and disappear again, with a light sprinkling of thievery on the side. 

So he waited. And... _There_!

The harpoon bolt fired messily into the water, obscuring the glistening scales once again. They reappeared soon enough, and Bad fired a net.

Both missed the mark. George cursed and started yanking on the rope connected to the bolt.

“Language!” Bad chided, pulling out another net and loading it into the gun. 

“We’re _fucking_ sailors!” Sapnap yelled back joyously. He had found the second harpoon gun and was running to join them on the port side.

“My boat, my rules!” Bad retorted. This was a very common argument on deck, so George ignored them in favor of reloading the bolt into the harpoon gun. 

He took aim once again, determined to hit something. A flash of yellow again, much closer to the boat this time. George fired, and he felt the bolt catch. 

“Yes!” he cried triumphantly. He started pulling the rope, only to stop short. Nothing gave. 

“Well, _shit_ ,” he muttered. They must be over a shelf, and he had caught the finest specimen of rock. 

At that moment, something broke the water right in front of him. He shrieked and stumbled back, dropping the harpoon gun and tripping over it. 

Dream clutched the side of the ship, hefting his torso over the edge. _Muffin_ began to tip perilously portward, the extra three-hundred some-odd pounds upsetting the balance. 

George stared sliding toward the merman, and he scrabbled to get purchase on the rough deck. 

A stray harpoon bolt went careening off behind Dream, launching skyward. Sapnap cursed loudly. 

Dream’s eyes darted quickly around the deck, and George felt flayed open when they landed on him. When Dream’s eyes landed on the harpoon gun at George’s feet, he glared at it balefully. Then, he released the boat and dropped back into the water. 

Three things happened very quickly. 

First: _Muffin_ triumphantly swung back into position, throwing off the crewmate’s freshly-found balance.

Second: George tried to grab the harpoon gun, only to find the rope wrapped tightly around his ankle. 

Third: he felt an awful, foreboding _tug_.

“ _George_!” Sapnap shrieked. George’s feet went skidding out from under him, and he let out a breathless scream. The rough wood of the deck tore at his back as he was dragged across the planks. The rope yanked him up and over the banister, and he almost cleared it, but the back of his head smashed on the railing and the world went dark.

***

 _Dream grinned, hearing the splash behind him. He released the bolt and turned, expecting to find a harpoon gun and instead found… a body. A body that was definitely not moving, and was probably, in fact, drowning._

Well, _he thought._ Shit.

_He heard shouting above the water. On one hand, the crew would probably be able to fish him out eventually. Dream should just take the harpoon gun and leave, as according to plan._

_On the other hand, he was_ actively drowning _, and the crew really might not be able to get him out in time._

_“Fuuuuuck. Fine.”_

_He swam over and threw the body over his shoulder. The shouting above-water intensified. A net was fired into the water, and Dream dodged left. It sunk slowly behind him, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. He had an idiot man to save._

***

George woke up slowly. Waves lapped gently at the sides of the boat. The sun beat down on his face. He scrunched his nose and shifted, trying to roll out of the beam.

Except. The sun wasn’t supposed to be in the cabin. And he certainly didn’t feel the boat’s gentle rocking. And his head _really_ fucking hurt. 

He cracked his eyes open.

“Fuck,” he muttered, lifting a hand to his forehead and slamming his eyes shut again. “Mistake.”

“Yeah, you were out pretty good,” an unfamiliar voice chimed in. 

George’s eyes flew open ( _OW_ ) and he sat up. 

The first thing he noticed was he was in the middle of the ocean. Well, he was on a rock in the middle of the ocean. 

The next was he was decidedly not alone. His company came in the form of one particular merman, complete with glistening yellow scales and quite the charming grin. 

George screamed and scrambled backwards until his hand hit the water. 

“Oh-KAY, that was loud,” Dream said, scooting back himself. George took this wild, delirious moment to study the merman in front of him. 

Dream wasn’t purely yellow. In fact, he wasn’t yellow at all, he was actually quite a startling shade of lime, but George couldn’t tell the difference. His scales didn’t end at his waist. Instead, they parted around his belly-button and arched up and around, covering the whole of his his back and clustering on his shoulders. He had a thick, black stripe lining the middle of his back and running all the way down his tail. Big white splotches outlined delicately in black clustered together near the stripe, dispersing and shrinking as they grew more distant from his dorsal fin. Said fin was tall and sharp, and it reminded George of a sailfish. 

George took a deep breath. Moment of delirium over with, he now had to face his imminent demise. Dream was a highly aggressive and potentially dangerous merman, and he had obviously brought George to the middle of nowhere to kill him. 

Except. Well. Dream didn’t look very aggressive. With one brow raised curiously, tipping his head just slightly to the right, he almost looked… friendly. 

And, George realized, if Dream had wanted to kill him, leaving him to drown might have done just as well. 

“Okay, before you do anything like scream again, I just wanna say you’re _welcome_ , I totally saved your life, I’m the best, I know,” Dream interrupted his thoughts, waving a hand flippantly through the air. 

George blinked. “What?” he choked, voice raw from sea salt. 

Dream laughed. It was weird. This was not the “highly aggressive and potentially dangerous” Dream he had been promised. This was… this was giving him whiplash. 

“I could have just let you drown. But I didn’t! And now we’re here.” Dream looked supremely pleased with himself. 

George paused. “... Great. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

The air between them grew thick. George looked around. As it turned out, he was not in “the middle of the ocean.” He could see the faint outline of land a ways behind him. He figured that, if worse came to worse, he could probably swim there.

“So, I have a proposition for you,” Dream said, pulling George from his landborne thoughts.

“You tell me why you and your crew are hunting me,” he began, and then stopped. George raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest. Dream just looked at him expectantly. 

“That’s… not a proposition,” George sputtered. 

Dream tilted his head. “Isn’t it?” he asked. There was the undercurrent of a threat in his voice. 

George flinched, sitting up straighter. Ah. This… could prove to be an issue. 

Dream grinned a sharp, sinister smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deck fell silent. George swallowed. He stayed facing the water, refusing to look at his crewmates.
> 
> “Hey, quick question: what the fuck was that?”
> 
> * * *

George sat huddled in a blanket, glaring maliciously at the floorboards. 

Sapnap and Bad had eventually located him, safely deposited on land by a falsely-friendly fish. Well, debatably-falsely-friendly. Dream was confusing, to say the least. 

Bad insisted George get checked out by a medical professional before they set sail again. So here George was, being told he had a mild concussion and more splinters in his back than the floorboards he was glowering at. 

He exited the clinic sometime later, strict orders to rest ringing through his head, fully intent on ignoring them. He looked around and spotted Bad waving at him from a ways away. 

“What’d he say?” Bad asked when George approached.

George shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Nothing serious.”

Bad squinted at him. “Really,” he asked flatly. “You smash your head on my railing while being dragged by a three-hundred pound merman and you don’t even have a concussion.”

George winced and looked away. “He said it was mild…”

Sapnap started laughing, but Bad just glared. “And I’m sure he didn’t tell you to rest and stay out of bright light either, did he?”

George pursed his lips. “... No?” he tried. 

Wrong answer.

Bad sighed, long and dramatic, before dragging George off to find a motel to recuperate in. 

“No, really, I’m perfectly fine!” George protested, dragging his feet melodramatically. “I would much rather get back out there and, uh, get revenge! C’mon, Bad, can we just—,” 

Sapnap cackled, dancing behind him. “It’s no use, Mommy Bad has made up his mind!” he giggled.

“Don’t call me that!” Bad squawked, the hint of a chuckle in his tone. “It’s not motherly to make sure your friends aren’t hurting themselves on accident.”

Sapnap hummed, snorting lightly. 

George sighed, frowning deeply. He didn’t like the thought of sitting in a motel waiting for nothing to change while Dream was out there… expecting him. He shuddered involuntarily.

_“So you just talk to your little crew, and then we’ll chat, okay? Deal?” Dream asked. His head was tipped forward, falsely inviting._

_George swallowed. His fingers trembled, and he didn’t think it was from the cold brine._

_“Deal.”_

***

Bad made him stay inside for two days. 

They were a miserable two days spent in a miserable motel room with miserable tan walls and a miserable squeaky mattress. George wasn’t allowed to do _anything_.

“What do you mean, I can’t even _read_?” he squawked.

“It strains your eyes,” Bad explained patiently. “It’s not good for someone who’s concussed.”

“ _Mildly_ ,” George muttered, “ _mildly_ concussed.”

Bad snorted. “Trust me, I’ve had to deal with plenty of _mildly_ concussed people before. Don’t read, it’ll hurt more than it helps.”

George laid back on the bed, a groan scraping its way through his throat.

He spent the next two days wearing Bad down, occasionally with aid from Sapnap, and occasionally having to fight the both of them. Until finally, at the dawn of the third day, hope came in the form of Bad throwing clothes at George’s head and saying, “Alright, I’ve had enough. Let’s go, if you’re so desperate.”

“Yes!” Sapnap cried triumphantly. “Finally! Come on, Gogy, you’re free!”

George laughed, faking outrage. “Ew, don’t _call_ me that, that’s disgusting.”

Sapnap giggled, tying a bandana around his forehead. Bad just grinned to himself, exiting the room and going to check on _Muffin_. 

***

The seabreeze gently ruffled George’s hair as he gazed over the dusky blue waters, and he realized he really couldn’t get tired of this blue. 

“George!” Sapnap yelled from the cabin. He turned, spotting Sapnap rounding the corner, glare on his face. 

George blinked. Uh-oh. “Hey,” he replied shakily. 

“Get your ass back in the cabin, you—you muffin,” he finished lamely, glancing over his shoulder as if Bad would appear and chew him out again. 

“You already said ‘ass,’” George pointed out, “there’s no saving that.”

“Shut up, you’re ignoring the point.” He grabbed George by the collar, beginning to drag him back to his dark and boring doom. 

George weakly shoved at his wrist, protesting, “No, c’mon, it’s totally my turn to be on watch, it’s fine—,”

“Wrong answer,” Sapnap chirped. “You don’t have a turn on watch.”

George groaned. He really, _really_ hated sitting around waiting for Dream to show up. No, scratch that, he hated the fact that he expected Dream to show up for an entirely different purpose than usual. 

_“I just wanna_ talk _to them,” he promised._

_George didn’t much like promises from monsters._

George shuddered, and something coiled tightly in his chest. Guilt. 

_He_ still needed to talk to his crew. 

“So, um, I have a question,” he said, falsely nonchalant. 

“No, you cannot keep watch at night just because there’s less light,” Sapnap answered, not releasing his hold until they got all the way to the bunk room. 

“Not what I was gonna say,” George muttered. He _had_ asked Bad that yesterday, but he wouldn’t try the same trick with Sapnap. 

Sapnap snorted. “Okay,” he agreed. “What’s up?”

George opened his mouth, but his tongue felt dry. He closed it and swallowed. He hadn’t thought this completely through. 

“What if…” he tried again. “What if Dream isn’t how we think he is?”

Sapnap stopped and blinked. He stared at George, who squirmed under his gaze. 

“You mean what if he’s worse than we thought? Uh, yeah, I’m starting to think so.”

“No,” George glanced away, “I mean what if he’s… not? As bad?”

Sapnap squinted. “I’m sorry, are we forgetting that he dragged you off the boat, almost drowned you, stole our harpoon gun, tried to kill us on a weekly basis, and left you for dead on some nobody island?” he counted off, holding up another finger for each offense. 

George winced. “Well, no…”

“Right,” Sapnap said. “So we agree, he’s terrible in more ways than we thought. Cool, glad we had this conversation.” He slapped George on the shoulder amicably, turning to leave. 

“No, I mean—,” George grabbed his arm, “I mean, he didn’t outright kill me, didn’t he? He—he took me to that island, didn’t he?”

Sapnap turned, eyebrows deeply furrowed. “George,” he began patiently, “just because he didn’t drown you himself doesn’t mean he was trying to spare you.” He said this as it was obvious. Self-evident. “He probably just thought you were already dead and let you float the fuck away, okay? He’s not—he’s not.” 

George swallowed. Sapnap gently twisted his arm out of George’s grip, exiting the bunk room just as quickly as he came in. 

That was… a highly unsuccessful conversation. In fact, George was pretty sure Sapnap was swayed in the _opposite_ direction now. Wonderful.

He settled into his bunk, resigned. This would be harder than he thought. 

***

George decided he would make a more subtle approach. He was useless at talking directly about the issue. Instead, he would indirectly suggest to Sapnap and Bad the truth. 

He planned to execute this maneuver within a week. In seven days, Sapnap and Bad would understand, and they could all speak amicably to Dream. 

As it turned out, his time limit was exactly a day and a half. 

George was manning the wheel, formulating his extremely clever and foolproof plan, when the shouting started on deck. He ran to throw open the window, dread pooling in his stomach. 

“GEORGE!” Sapnap was shouting, “Starboard! Twen— Thirty degrees!”

George swallowed. Oh dear. Oh no, oh dear, oh _fuck_. This was not at all according to plan. 

He turned the boat hesitantly. What was he going to _do_? He doubted Dream’s guard would be down, but he couldn’t exactly stop his crewmates from murdering the merman if he chose to be passive today. Not without raising crazy suspicion.

George yanked the wheel into a locked position, running to join Bad and Sapnap on deck. Sapnap had the harpoon gun, and Bad had acquired the net gun again. George’s fingers itched to take up a weapon too, but Dream had stolen the other harpoon gun. 

And, obviously, he was trying to _prevent_ Dream’s murder. 

He leaned up against the banister, trying to catch a glimpse of the glittering yellow scales. It was, surprisingly, very easy. Dream was swimming in a nearly-straight line, directly towards the boat. 

“He’s up to something,” Sapnap muttered beside him, harpoon gun locked on target, “but I’ll get him before he does.” His finger hovered over the trigger.

“WAIT!” George shrieked, shoulder-checking him. The bolt went careening off-course, nowhere near Dream. 

Shit. That was _definitely_ not according to plan.

“What the _hell_ , George?” Sapnap snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

George heard the _thunk_ of a net launching, and he whipped around to face the water, ignoring Sapnap.

Dream had managed to dodge, and his head popped up above the water only a few meters away. George wildly waved his arms in a ‘go away’ motion. He could barely see Dream wrinkle his nose.

George breathed a sigh of relief when Dream complied, disappearing under the waves. 

The deck fell silent. George swallowed. He stayed facing the water, refusing to look at his crewmates.

“Hey, quick question: what the fuck was that?”

Bad didn’t even tell Sapnap to watch his language. 

George was in _serious_ trouble. 

He breathed a shaky breath. 

“I… have to tell you guys something.”

***

“He fucking _threatened_ you? No, fuck that, I’m murdering him ON SIGHT,” Sapnap snarled, slamming his hands on the table.

“Language,” Bad muttered distantly. His eyes were far away, deep in thought. 

“No, it’s not—it’s not like that,” George defended. “I mean, it kinda—okay so it’s kinda like that. But it’s not what you think!”

“No?” Sapnap asked, venom tainting ever syllable. “So he didn’t indirectly threaten your life in exchange for talking to us? That’s not what he did?”

“Not exactly, no,” George mumbled. He looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. 

They had moved into the cabin to have this conversation. It began to rain outside. 

Sapnap snorted. He shoved away from the table and started to pace. 

“We knew he was bad from day one,” Sapnap growled. “But I didn’t know he was straight-up _evil_.”

“We don’t know that!” George argued. 

Sapnap glanced at him, a permanent glare on his face. “Right,” he muttered. 

George cracked his knuckles nervously. This really wasn’t going how he had hoped. He sort of suspected Sapnap would be against it; he had been hellbent on killing Dream from the start. But Bad… 

“Bad,” George begged desperately. 

Bad looked up, lips pursed. He scanned George’s face and sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “If what you’re saying is true, then Dream technically _did_ choose to save your life.”

“ _What_?” Sapnap shrieked. 

“Yes!” George jumped in his seat. “He did, I swear! You have to believe me.” 

Bad blew air from between his teeth, sitting back in his seat. Sapnap started up another angry ramble about how awful and terrible Dream was.

George chewed his lip and tried to remember why he was defending Dream so viciously. 

***

_“That’s… not a proposition,” George sputtered._

_Dream tilted his head. “Isn’t it?” he asked. There was the undercurrent of a threat in his voice._

_George flinched, sitting up straighter. Ah. This… could prove to be an issue._

_Dream grinned a sharp, sinister smile._

_“Um,” George mumbled, trying to find the most delicate way to phrase “we were sent to kill you by a shady man in a coat because we’re broke and wanted money.”_

_“Wait, before you start, what’s your name?” Dream interrupted. His sinister smile was gone, replaced with slightly-quirked eyebrows and wide eyes._

_George blinked. Okay, strange. “... George,” he muttered eventually._

_Dream nodded once sharply. “George. Got it, okay. I’m Dream. Anyway, you were saying?” He settled down, curled up almost like a puppy, except he was a huge and dangerous merman._

_“Um,” George fumbled. Dream was throwing more curveballs than a world-class pitcher. He really was an enigma._

_“We… we were commissioned by someone. I don’t know that he ever told us his name,” George began. “He paid us a hefty sum for your body to be brought back… and that was only half of the money. He would give us the rest after… He told us that you were really dangerous and needed to be stopped.” George swallowed hesitantly, unsure if he should have included that last bit._

_Dream blew a raspberry. “Pf. Bitch.”_

_George jolted, and a shocked laugh made its way through his system._

_“This fucking rich baby can’t even take care of me himself,” Dream continued, spurned on by the startled laughter coming from the man opposite him. “What a loser.”_

_George choked on another chuckle, trying to stifle his involuntary reaction. Dream was… maybe not so terrible after all._

_“So, here’s the thing,” Dream went on, and George quickly fell silent. This didn’t sound like good news._

_“I’m actually sort of on a mission right now? And you guys turned out to be really super annoying, so I’d really appreciate it if that whole business could stop.”_

_George shifted uncomfortably. “... What does that mean?”_

_Dream scoffed. “Well, obviously, you guys stop hunting me. But actually…” he paused, looking George up and down. Considering._

_“Alright, how about this: you convince your crew to chill out for one day and maybe drop the whole kill-the-merman business, and we’ll talk,” Dream proposed._

_George bit his lip._

_“I just wanna_ talk _to them,” he promised._

_George looked away, scared of being sucked into those earnest yellow eyes. There was something haunting about the way they punched a hole right through his defenses._

_“What if I say no?” he asked hesitantly._

_Dream hummed in consideration. “I don’t know,” he replied, “you think you could make the swim from here to that island?”_

_George balked, looking at the distance. There was no way he wouldn’t drown._

_“Okay, fine,” he agreed quickly. Dream chuckled, and George got the impression that may have been a joke._

_“So you just talk to your little crew, and then we’ll chat, okay? Deal?” Dream asked. His head was tipped forward, falsely inviting._

_George swallowed. His fingers trembled, and he didn’t think it was from the cold brine._

_“Deal.”_

***

“... we can’t _trust_ him! Why would he want to talk, anyway? He’s probably just looking for an opportunity to kill all of us at the same time,” Sapnap was ranting, waving his arms for emphasis. 

“I don’t know,” Bad sighed. He seemed the most torn up about the situation, which George took as a good sign.

“Listen,” George pleaded again, determined to make them understand, “I really don’t think he’s like that. We—he—we just _talked_. And he seemed really, like, genuine? I felt like… I felt like what he was saying was true. He wasn’t lying.”

“You have _no idea_ what he’s really like!” Sapnap argued.

“Neither do you!” George snapped. Sapnap’s mouth audibly clicked shut.

Bad looked between them nervously. “Okay,” he interrupted gently, “let’s not fight about this. We can figure it out together.”

Sapnap didn’t listen. “You would trust _him_ —a _monster_ you don’t even know—over your own crew?” he accused, poison dripping from his words. 

“No!” George cried, appalled. “Of course I would trust you guys more!” 

“Really? ‘Cause you’re trying real hard to trust him more than my instincts.”

“Okay, _enough_.” 

George snapped his mouth shut, guiltily looking over at Bad. He had risen from his chair, eyes shut, mouth screwed into a firm line. 

The room fell deathly silent. 

“We are _done_ fighting,” Bad commanded, voice full of captainly authority. “We’re gonna work this out, _together_ , and we are not going to squabble like children. Okay?” His breath came in labored puffs, angry and firm.

George bit his lip, looking away. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, hearing an echo from behind Bad.

He cast a sidelong glance at Sapnap. “Your instincts suck.”

“ _HEY_.”

George snorted, and the icy air in the cabin thawed considerably. 

“Okay,” Sapnap sighed, finally coming back to sit on his chair. “So let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god i had to cut myself off because if i wrote any more scenes it was gonna be like double the length of last chapter so sorry but JESUS inspiration strikes hard
> 
> you know i didn't realize i was writing such protective sapnap until i was like halfway through and honestly? i'm here for it. can you tell that i love him so much
> 
> thanks for reading!! you guys are SO FREAKING NICE i got SO many lovely comments on last chapter about how much you all loved it, and fr, you guys are my lifeblood <3 seriously, all those comments are the main reason i chose to continue, so leave a comment or kudos if you liked it!!! 
> 
> right now i'm thinking somewhere around 5 chapters total, but honestly, who knows where this will take me! stay tuned i guess lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He paced the length of the deck, eyes locked firmly on the tide. Nothing seemed strange about the blue waves. They came and went steadily. The grey sky cast shadows that moved across the water, almost as though they were alive. 
> 
> George paused, leaning over the banister again. That shadow was moving _particularly_ strange. He squinted. 
> 
> It wasn’t a shadow. 
> 
> Something inky black disappeared under the boat
> 
> * * *

George was on watch again. 

George was on watch most of the time, nowadays. Nerves coiled tightly in his stomach every time he caught a flash of color, but no yellow scales surfaced.

In an unexpected turn of events, Sapnap declined being on watch for the majority of the time. “I honestly don’t think I could look at him and not immediately reach for the guns,” he muttered, glaring at the waves. 

It had taken some convincing for Sapnap to agree to meet with Dream. Bad had been on board pretty early on, despite the potential for lost money. 

“If he’s really a good person,” Bad reasoned, “then this would be the right thing to do.” Sapnap snorted in disbelief. 

So George watched. It was the same, but also completely different. His chest fluttered with a different kind of anxious energy. 

He sighed, resting his forearms on the banister. His head drooped down, tired and fuzzy. The rough waves, capped with white, rocked the boat, lulling him into a safe relaxation. Maybe he should ask Bad to switch out with him early. 

He shook his head, pushing away from the side of the boat. No, he really wanted to see Dream. Well, he really wanted to see Dream _first_. Obviously. 

George stifled a yawn, wrinkling his nose. Ugh. Maybe he _was_ a little too fatigued. 

He paced the length of the deck, eyes locked firmly on the tide. Nothing seemed strange about the blue waves. They came and went steadily. The grey sky cast shadows that moved across the water, almost as though they were alive. 

George paused, leaning over the banister again. That shadow was moving _particularly_ strange. He squinted. 

It wasn’t a shadow. 

Something inky black disappeared under the boat. 

He sucked in a breath, ready to call for backup, but something slimy and sinuous wrapped around his ankle. His shout turned into a high-pitched scream as he was dragged off balance, crashing face-first into the deck. 

He risked a glance down and immediately regretted it. Huge tentacles were rising up above the waves, feeling their way along the boat. One had enveloped his ankle and was retreating towards its source. 

He let out another terrified scream, scrabbling over the splintery boards, desperate to escape. 

“ _George_!” Two voices shrieked in unison. 

He felt the pounding of feet across the deck and heard a wild scream of, “GET THE _FUCK_ AWAY FROM HIM!”

Sapnap, leaping to his rescue, buried a harpoon bolt deep into the tentacle wrapped around George’s ankle. He had a savage glint in his eyes, and George had never been so grateful to be friends with a lunatic. 

A loud, unearthly screech reverberated in the air. George clamped his hands over his ears. The howl almost sounded like it didn’t have an origin; it echoed strangely across every surface. The tentacle sprung away, taking the bolt with it.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Sapnap urged, yanking George up by his sleeve. 

George stumbled, glancing back to assess the damage. The tentacles had clamped tightly over every plank they touched, threatening the stability of the whole vessel. 

Sapnap pulled him along, joining Bad in the corner of the deck closest to the cabin.

“What do we do?” Bad squawked, wringing his hands. “We can’t kill that thing!” 

Sapnap wheeled around, snarl on his face. “We can try.”

“Sapnap, _no_ ,” George stopped him, snatching his collar before he could charge into the fray. 

“Well, we can’t just sit here and watch it tear the ship apart!” he argued. 

George opened his mouth, but a distant and familiar voice interrupted him. 

“Hey, Squidbrain! Come here, you bitch!”

George looked out, past the waving tentacles and furious crewmate, and saw the glittering yellow scales of hope surface. 

The squid paused in its destruction, curious. Dream disappeared under the waves again, promptly followed by another howling screech. The tentacles loosened their grip on the ship and began slipping off slowly, back into the water. 

Dream surfaced some yards off, reckless grin on his face. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” he chanted. “Yeah, come here, you stupid fuck.” Then he was gone again, flashing away under the water. 

The squid released _Muffin_ , setting her rocking wildly as it disappeared after Dream. 

George watched as Dream resurfaced several times to shout insults and taunts, occasionally darting back to attack the squid with… something sharp. George thought it might be a sword, but he wasn’t sure. 

Eventually, the two sea creatures vanished into the ocean and didn’t resurface. George scanned the waves frantically, searching for a sign that Dream was okay. 

“He’ll be fine,” Bad reassured, placing a hand on George’s shoulder.

“And if he’s not, then good riddance,” Sapnap growled. 

George couldn’t even find it within himself to argue. 

The three fell silent, gazing out over the now-calm waters. Everything, for the most part, was back to normal. 

“What _was_ that thing?” Bad asked hoarsely. 

George bit his lip. “I don’t… know. A squid?”

“Yeah, a really fucking big one,” Sapnap added. 

“Language,” Bad muttered. He paused, still staring out at the sea. “That was interesting timing,” he commented.

George frowned. “What was?”

“Dream’s timing. He showed up at the same time the squid did. It’s just a little—,” Bad stopped and snickered, “—a little _fishy_.”

“Unbelievable.” 

“Boo, get off the stage,” Sapnap heckled. 

They chuckled together before the atmosphere grew sober again. “You’re right,” Sapnap agreed, “the timing was too convenient.”

George bit his lip. He wanted to argue, but… “Yeah,” he sighed. “It was, wasn’t it?” He tapped his finger on his forearm. “There could be an explanation—,” 

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Sapnap huffed, “isn’t it obvious? That was planned. Dream like, sicked that thing on us and then saved us to earn our trust. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Bad hummed in contemplation. “That could be it.”

“Wh—we can’t prove that!” George argued.

“ _Why_ do you want to trust him so badly?” Sapnap snarled. 

“Why do you _not_?”

“No,” Bad interrupted, pushing his way between them, “we are not having this argument again. We said we’d meet with him, and we will. Okay?”

“Oh, good,” a voice said, hidden by the side of the boat. “I was starting to worry.”

All three crewmates jumped, and then scrambled to look over the banister. Dream was floating on his back looking up, tail swishing lazily beneath him, keeping him afloat. 

George noticed a series of red welts on his upper arm and a nasty bruise on his side, but he bit his cheek before he could say anything. _Later_ , he promised himself.

Dream’s face was particularly open, George thought. His wide eyes flickered over each face hovering above him. When Dream’s eyes met his, George could see his lips twitch up, just barely. 

Nobody spoke. Dream shifted in the water, uneasily moving into a more upright position. 

George glanced nervously at his crewmates. Bad was scanning Dream dubiously, cautious but not hostile. Sapnap, on the other hand, was positively trying to sear Dream’s scales off with his glare alone. 

Dream cleared his throat. “So,” he said, “hi.”

George groaned, slumping forward to rest his forehead against the railing. He heard Bad let out a light, amused snort. Sapnap didn’t respond. 

“I’m Dream,” he continued, confidence building. 

“We know,” Sapnap growled. Bad’s hand flashed out and smacked him on the shoulder. They exchanged a series of faces, which eventually resulted in Sapnap looking away glumly, and Bad pinching the bridge of his nose. Very productive conversation. 

“Sapnap, George, and I’m Bad,” he said, gesturing to each of them in turn. His voice was clipped.

Dream blinked. He opened his mouth to ask, but quickly thought better of it when George frantically shook his head. 

“Okay,” he muttered. “Nice to, uh, meet you?”

“It’s not,” Sapnap chirped. 

George sighed. “Can we _please_ ,” he begged, “just talk about… whatever it is you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes, sure, sounds great,” Dream mumbled. He looked down at the water and heaved a deep, long sigh. “Okay, it’s… a long story.”

***

_A long time ago, strange things started appearing throughout the ocean, though nobody knows where they came from or what they were there for. Huge, black creatures with glowing purple eyes. Portals in the deepest magma pits._

_Rumors quickly spread, as rumors tend to do. They called the menacing, inky creatures Endersquids. The portals were mostly left alone, but the few who were brave enough to venture inside never stayed long. They told tales of fire-spitting monsters and sinister castles, deep, deep down. Nobody much believed these stories_. 

***

“Pf, yeah, cause that sounds fake as fuck,” Sapnap scoffed. 

George gave him a swift elbow between the ribs

***

_REGARDLESS, life went on. The Endersquids didn’t bother many, and the portals were a rarity._

_Then, just a few months ago, things started changing. The Endersquids’ demeanor morphed into something more aggressive, more dangerous. They started attacking ships; sinking them. The ocean became more hazardous as time went on._

__

__

_Warnings started being passed around. Legends about some great beast, far, far away, in the deepest sea. A dragon. Supposedly, it was the master of the Endersquids, and it was getting angry. Dangerous._

_Things are just going to get worse. Trade is going to fall apart entirely. Ocean travel will become nearly impossible. The seas will become an un-traversable waste._

_However, there’s one way to stop this. If the dragon dies, the Endersquids go away too. Everything goes back to the way it was. The oceans will be safe again._

***

“So,” Bad interrupted, “that’s… what you’re trying to do?”

Dream nodded solemnly. “Someone has to.”

“Uh, yeah okay, sure,” Sapnap sneered, “and why would you even _want_ to? It doesn’t sound like you’re in trouble over this. Those, what—Endersquids?—they don’t sound like they bother you. What’s in it for you?”

Dream scoffed. “They threaten me, too. And my home. I was just giving examples of why it’s bad for _you_. And, come on, is it so wrong that I could care about you humans, too?”

Sapnap wrinkled his nose spitefully. “Yes.”

“So, uh,” George jumped in before Sapnap had the chance to further retort, “how, exactly, does that all work? You just need to kill the dragon?”

Dream shook his head. “You have to _get_ to the dragon first, which, unfortunately, is a massive pain in the ass.”

“Language,” Bad snapped out of habit.

Both looked surprised at this turn of events. Dream jerked his head back, startled, while Bad blinked in shock at his own boldness. 

Dream started chuckling lowly, and a gentle smile made its way onto his face. “Okay,” he hummed, “sorry.”

Bad flushed. “Um, yeah. Anyway, you were saying…?”

“Oh, right,” Dream said, “getting to the dragon. Yeah, so it’s a… hassle. There’s lots of convoluted steps that basically boil down to going through one of those portals I mentioned and killing a bunch of the Endersquids.”

Sapnap glared. “Sounds overly-dangerous and complicated.”

“Oh, it is,” Dream agreed. “It is very unnecessarily dangerous and complicated. But what can you do?” He bit his lip and drew in a deep breath. “So, what I’m—uh. Listen. I don’t know if I can do it on my own,” he said at length. 

“Oh, wow, that sucks,” Sapnap bit out. 

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, and his nostrils flared. George got the impression that it was taking everything he had to not smack the shit out of Sapnap. Which, okay, same.

“I’m asking for your help,” Dream said, voice breaking. “There’s certain things that would be a million times easier if I had a—if you would be willing to help me.” His eyes met George’s, and he almost stopped breathing. They were filled with a kind of wild desperation. “Please. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to.”

 _Of course_ , George almost blurted out. _Of course we’ll help_.

He imagined Sapnap’s answer would be more or less the complete opposite. _Fuck no, go figure it out by yourself. Actually, no, how about you stay right there and we’ll just spear you with a good ol’ harpoon real quick?_

Once again, Bad was the deciding factor. 

George and Sapnap turned to him simultaneously, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. He sighed. George held his breath. 

“Let’s talk,” he said at last. George deflated. “In the cabin. Dream, would you mind waiting?”

Dream sunk lower in the water. “Go ahead,” he mumbled. He didn’t look up, even when George was the last to leave. George’s heart gave a subtle pinch. 

George closed the door behind him when he entered the cabin.

“So number one: no,” Sapnap began. “Number two: _hell_ no. Have we literally forgotten how much of a problem he’s been to us? We’ve been hunting him for months, and we’ve already lost two net launchers, a harpoon gun, and poor, sweet Bucky.”

Bucky the bucket had, tragically, washed overboard during one of the scuffles with Dream. May his rusty metal soul rest peacefully at the bottom of the sea.

“Well, first of all, it’s only been, like, a month and a half, so check your facts,” George countered. “And, technically, _we_ started it. If we hadn’t started chasing him in the first place we wouldn’t have lost any of those things.”

“Yeah, well—if Bad hadn’t bought _Muffin_ we wouldn’t be in this mess anyway! We can domino effect all day long, Georgie. Doesn’t change the fact that Dream has, actually, tried to hurt us. Okay? He’s not innocent. Stop acting like he is.” Sapnap’s voice lost the hard, angry edge. He started to sound more like he just wanted George to _hear_ him.

George’s mouth dried up. “No, I—I know he’s not. But… I mean… I believe him. I think he’s telling the truth.”

Bad hummed, finally breaking their intense staring contest. “You know, I think that too.”

“Bad!” Sapnap cried, betrayed. 

He shrugged. “Everything he’s done doesn’t really add up any other way. It makes sense. Why else would he save George’s life and ask to meet with us? And then wait peacefully outside while we could be conspiring to kill him?”

“He’s just trying to gain our trust—,” Sapnap accused, but George cut him off. 

“For _what_? Spanap, you _know_ he doesn’t function like that. He has never done things in such an underhanded and convoluted style. He’s being serious.”

“You don’t _know_ —,” he tried, but he stopped himself. He glanced between George and Bad, face slowly falling. “You two have already made up your minds.” It wasn’t a question. 

Bad had the decency to look a little guilty. “It just… makes more sense,” he admitted. 

George stared at Sapnap quietly. His mind had been made up since the beginning.

Sapnap’s face darkened. “Fine,” he said. “Fine, we’ll do whatever. But when this blows up in our face, I won’t be surprised.” He looked away, a permanent scowl etched into his features. 

The cabin fell silent. Nobody made a move for the door, even though Dream was waiting for their decision.

Bad stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Sapnap—,” he began, but the latter cut him off. 

“Just promise me that the _minute_ Dream steps out of line, or stumbles, or hurts one of you,” he begged, “promise me that you won’t stop me.” His eyes blazed, and he met each of their gazes in turn. 

George flinched back. _He won’t_ , he wanted to say, though he didn’t know why. He bit his lip instead. 

Bad sighed. “Okay,” he agreed. “I promise.”

Two sets of eyes turned toward George. 

“George—,” Sapnap started, looking more hurt by the minute. 

“Okay, yes, I promise,” he blurted. Sapnap’s shoulders slumped in relief. “But honestly,” George continued, “I don’t think we have anything to worry about. I mean, Bad’s already gotten onto him for language. He’s practically part of the crew at this point.” It was a weak joke, but it lightened the mood considerably. 

“It’s just a habit!” Bad defended, voice rising an octave. “He looked so startled; I think we were both surprised.” 

Sapnap chuckled weakly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That was actually kind of funny.”

Bad groaned, and George smiled. Maybe this could work. He could make this work. 

“Okay,” Sapnap grumbled, “let’s go tell that stinky fish what’s up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello!!! thanks for reading!! 
> 
> just a little warning, updates might slow down from here a little, because this is basically as far as ive planned out in detail. i definitely have more, don't you worry!!! just not as concise rn. 
> 
> but anyway, if you liked it, leave a comment or kudos!!! i love reading all ur lovely comments <3 thanks!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream rolled his eyes. “Great. So now I just need... one of you to come with me.” He very carefully did not look at George.
> 
> George pretended his heart didn’t absolutely sink right into his heels.
> 
> Everyone on deck fell silent. Bad pursed his lips, looking delicately away from the merman. Sapnap curled his lip unabashedly. George… well, George was torn between staring hopefully at Dream and walking right the fuck away. He didn’t—it wasn’t like he _needed_ to go. And Dream clearly didn’t want him there anyway.
> 
> * * *

Dream was being _very_ cryptic. 

George glared at the yellow scales that kept dipping in and out of view. The boat trailed behind, keeping in line with the merman’s path. He was leading them… _somewhere_. 

George heaved a deep sigh. He had really hoped that their agreement would soften the grudges, but it was feeling like both sides were icier than ever. Even back when they had been specifically antagonizing Dream, he still threw them playful winks and sly grins. Now, the relationship had just… gone stale. It was almost _boring_ how little personality Dream suddenly had. 

But when one pool goes dry, humans will simply find another. 

And really, it wasn’t like George had studied Dream’s appearance extensively beforehand.

He started noticing _everything_. 

He noticed how Dream had two ragged tears on his tailfin—one on the end of the right and one in the middle of the left. 

He noticed that Dream’s white spots almost fit together perfectly, like a smooth, spaced-out jigsaw puzzle. 

He noticed that Dreams ears (fins? ear-fins?) moved independently, and that they would probably be a pretty good indicator to Dream’s emotions. 

If only George could figure out what his emotions _were_. 

In front of them, Dream abruptly surfaced, looking intently forward. After a moment, he circled back, coming up beside the boat and keeping pace. George crossed the deck and leaned over the side, heart hopeful. 

“Okay,” Dream said flatly, “ahead of us is an island. Tell them to hold up.” Then he backed away, scanning the water again. No sign of a personality, then. 

George sighed, taking his hands off the rail. “Alright,” he muttered. It just gets _tiring_ , you know? Dealing with a flat wall for too long. George wanted to reach out and take ahold of Dream, ask him where his charming grin and clever threats had gone. Where his tiny smile reserved only for George had gone. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he plodded towards the cabin, downcast. 

Bad looked up when he entered, and smiled encouragingly. At least George could always count on _someone_ to have a smile. 

“What’s up?” Bad asked. “You wanna switch out?” His eyebrows drew together in friendly concern. George had declined trading out with anyone for two days. He wanted to see if he could get through to Dream, soften him up. Make him come out of his newfound shell. 

Clearly, there had been no such luck. 

“No, no,” George said. “Dream just said that we should pull up for a minute. He said there’s an island up ahead.”

Bad frowned and glanced out of the cabin. “Really?” he muttered, squinting. “I don’t see it.”

George shrugged. “That’s just what he said. I think he wants to talk.” _And continue to be super rude and boring_ , his mind added unhelpfully. 

Bad pursed his lips. “Okie,” he agreed easily, “we’ll pull up. D’you think this is a ‘go get Sapnap’ kind of meeting?”

Sapnap had been… spikey, to say the least. ‘Flat-out hostile toward any mention of Dream’ would probably be more accurate. 

“Ehhh,” George grunted. “Let’s go see before we do… that.”

Bad snorted and set the boat to hold up before following George around to where Dream was hovering.

“Okay, good,” Dream said. “You’re… not quite all here, but whatever. I can do without the interruptions, anyway.” The ghost of a smirk crossed his face, and George barely held back his own manic grin. He _was_ still in there… somewhere. 

“So here’s the thing,” he continued, turning away from the boat, “in order for you guys to actually help me, we’re gonna need some… special equipment.” 

George squinted. Was that a euphemism or…?

Dream turned back to them, but there was no joke written on his features. Damn it. In fact, he looked graver than usual. 

“What we really need right now is—,”

“Why are we stopped in the middle of nowhere?”

George winced at Sapnap’s brash voice cutting through the air. He turned to glare at the crewmate, who was making his grouchy way over to them. 

Sapnap didn’t even hide the way his nose wrinkled at the sight of Dream. “Y’all planning something without me?” he accused. In his anger, his natural southern twang shined through. George could not think of a single person that was a bigger prick at the moment. 

“That was the goal,” Dream retaliated. “But this is fine, too, I guess.”

Sapnap snarled at him. Like, literally _snarled_. How could one man be so angry at one fish?

“Like I was saying,” Dream breezed on, completely ignoring Sapnap, “and you’re just gonna have to trust me on this, okay? I know it’s gonna sound, uh… implausible.”

“I don’t trust anything you say,” Sapnap added cheerily. 

“Great, thanks so much for that contribution,” Dream replied, equally cheerily.

George sat up. The more their little quarrel went on, the more of Dream’s real personality broke through. Or, well, what George _assumed_ was Dream’s real personality. Maybe it was safer to say _a_ personality broke through. Like, any at all, which was a massive improvement.

He narrowed his eyes. Maybe he could work with this. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Dream pressed on, purposefully drowning out Sapnap’s returning growl. “What we’re really gonna need now is some potions.”

Bad sat back, tipping his head. “Potions?” he asked. “Like… that a witch makes? I thought that—,”

“They didn’t exist? Yeah. You humans can be pretty narrow. But also _no_ , a witch doesn’t have to make it. There is, luckily, a way for anyone at all to brew potions.” Dream flipped his tail absently, and his ears flickered up once. “If I didn’t live in the goddamn ocean, I could do it myself.”

Sapnap’s mouth audibly clicked shut, and George snorted. Dream had managed to preemptively answer his snarky question. 

“However,” Dream continued, “I know what you need. So now we have two options: either I tell you guys what to do and you make it on land, or I tell you what you need and you bring it back here so I can help.”

George pursed his lips. “Depends on how hard it is, I guess,” he answered for them. 

Dream’s eyes flickered over to him for the first time, and it was like someone dropped an electric eel on him. 

“Well, personally, I’d prefer if you would bring it back here,” Dream said. His eyes slid off George like butter, and he tried very hard not to be disappointed. 

Instantly, Sapnap opened his mouth to tell him they would be doing the exact opposite, but Bad beat him to the punch. “What do we need?” he asked. Sapnap pouted. 

“The hardest thing to get will probably be a brewing stand. It’s not only very rare topside, but probably not easy to bargain for, either.” He looked down at the water, eyebrows drawing together. “Do you have anything good to trade for it?” he asked, looking back up. 

Bad frowned. “Do we… have to trade for it? Is this, like, a trader’s mart?”

Dream jerked back slightly, eyebrows falling together. “No. What? I don’t know what that means. How else do you acquire stuff?”

George snorted. “We buy them. With money?”

Dream stopped and squinted. A little wrinkle appeared on his nose, and George made the conscious effort to keep his face neutral. 

“That literally makes no sense,” Dream said at last, “but whatever. Do you have enough, um, money?”

“Wait, stop,” Bad said, smiling and waving his arm, “you don’t know what money is?”

Dream glared. “No,” he said. “That’s not a thing with merpeople. We trade, like civilized beings. What even is money?”

Bad chuckled. Even Sapnap seemed to get some degree of enjoyment watching Dream struggle with the concept of money. 

“It’s, like, I guess a placeholder for a valuable item? Like you can basically trade money for whatever you want, as long as you have enough of it. It’s, like, gold and silver and stuff,” Bad explained, little smile still playing on his face. 

All at once, Dream’s eyes shot open. “Oh!” he cried. “That’s what it was!” An excited, self-satisfied grin settled onto his face, and this time, George didn’t stay neutral. He grinned right along with Dream, unsure what the excitement was about but willing to celebrate anyway. 

“I always wondered why shipwrecks would sometimes have this chest filled with little discs of gold. They were too small to be useful building materials, and they had little designs on them, like a face! Is that your money?” he asked animatedly. It was the most emotion George had seen out of him since they day they agreed to help.

Bad gaped. “Yes!” he said. “You have whole chests of gold?”

Dream’s smile fell a little, only to be replaced by a calculating look. “No, I don’t _have_ it, per se. But I think I remember where to get some. And you’ll be able to trade it for—for anything?” he asked, looking back up.

Bad nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Gold is pretty valuable, by human standards. If you can get us a whole bunch of it, we should be totally set!”

Dream nodded, and his ears flattened down slightly. George took it to be thoughtful. 

“Okay. Okay cool. I can work with that. It’ll put the mission on hold for a little while but I can do it,” he said, and he looked back in the direction they had come from. His face was calculating.

“Okay,” he said again, “wait right here. I’ll be back soon.” And without another word, he ducked under the water and disappeared.

“Great, thanks,” Sapnap muttered.

Bad elbowed him. “He’s literally going to get us a chest full of gold; can you not be grouchy for like, ten minutes?”

Sapnap glared at the rippling water. “I don’t trust it,” he said simply.

“Oh my god,” George groaned. He turned away, running a hand through his hair. “You’re hopeless. Will you ever not hate Dream?”

Sapnap snorted. “Only if he _earns_ it. It takes a certain level to befriend me,” he said proudly. 

George raised his eyebrow, unimpressed. “I literally threw a fish at you and we’ve been friends ever since.” 

“I was a different person then,” Sapnap said, falsely grim. He stared over the water like a moody protagonist. 

Bad let out a tiny, muffled _snrk!_ and broke the silence. All three descended into giggles, and George nearly collapsed onto Sapnap. 

“Ew, get _off_ of me,” Sapnap joked, shoving George away. “That’s disgusting.”

George gasped. “Rude!” he cried. “I’ll lay all over whoever I want.” He proved his point by promptly leaning his full weight onto Bad.

Bad, unfortunately, was not expecting this, and buckled under the sudden pressure. Both of them crumpled to the ground, giggling wildly. 

“Gross,” Sapnap said, kicking his foot lightly at George’s butt. “Get that PDA shit outta my face.”

“Or,” George said evilly, “you could _join_ us.” His hand shot out and wrapped around the back of Sapnap’s knee, and he gave a hard yank. Sapnap tumbled right down, still off-balance from his good-natured kick. He landed heavily on George’s back, and all of the air was squeezed out of his lungs from the impact. 

“Ugh!” George hissed thinly. “Get off, you jerk!”

“YOU DID THIS TO _YOURSELF_!” Sapnap roared, laughter beginning to take over. He laid on top of George, laughing heartily, while George wiggled underneath him, trying to upend his weight.

“Oh my goodness,” Bad wheezed, rolling away from the scuffle. He sat up, still giggling at their antics.

Meanwhile, George had taken a hold of Sapnap’s shoe and was yanking furiously. It came loose, and George promptly chucked it across the deck.

“Hey!” Sapnap complained. “That’s not fair!”

George laughed maniacally, and finally wriggled free. He stumbled to his feet and darted across the deck, Sapnap hot on his heels. He snatched up the shoe and kept running, Sapnap yelling behind him. 

“You give that _back_ ,” he threatened. “I will lay on you _so_ hard, you won’t be able to breathe for a _week_.”

“Kinky!” George gleefully yelled back.

“Language!” Bad yelped.

George ignored him in favor of throwing himself up against the railing, dangling the shoe threateningly over the side. 

“Not another step,” he warned, and Sapnap halted, eyes wide. 

“You wouldn’t,” he said, squinting at George. 

George chuckled, “Oh, but I would.” He shook the shoe as a warning. “Give me, uh—,” he didn’t even really want anything, but he felt the need to play the bit out— “give me your stupid headband as a sacrifice, or say goodbye to your shoe forever.”

“NO,” Sapnap said, cradling his headband protectively. “You _monster_.”

George laughed evilly. “I’ll do it,” he said. “My grip, it might be… _slipping_ ,” he mimed dropping the shoe.

“Stop it, oh my god, stop it, you crazy man,” Sapnap begged.

“ _The headband_ ,” George demanded. 

Sapnap glared. He kept his eyes locked on George as he ripped off the white cloth, holding it in an iron grip. George could see the phantom of a smirk on his face, so he wasn’t really angry. 

“Why do you even want his headband?” Bad asked, coming over to lean on the railing next to George. 

George grinned, pulling the shoe to the safety of the deck. “I’m gonna throw it in the ocean so he can’t look stupid anymore. I’m saving him from himself,” he said. 

“ _What_?” Sapnap squawked, promptly yanking the headband back out of reach and hopping backwards a step. “No you absolutely will not!”

George waved the shoe in front of his face. “I will if you ever want to get this back,” he sang.

Sapnap wrinkled his nose, smiling slightly. He knew George really wouldn’t. “Fine,” he said. “Do it then.”

George glanced backwards, into the rippling water. As it so happened, there was a _very_ confused merman, patiently waiting for their squabble to finish. He tipped his head when George met his eyes, asking a silent question: _What?_

George grinned in silent answer: _Watch this_.

“Okay,” he said. Then he chucked the shoe over his shoulder.

“ _GEORGE_ ,” Sapnap and Bad screamed simultaneously. Sapnap scrambled to the railing, looking over it in dismay. 

George collapsed onto the deck, cackling. Dream had caught the shoe, because of course he had. George had counted on him.

“Why would you _do_ that?” Bad sighed, hand on his chest. “That was terrible.”

Sapnap glared at Dream, who looked down at the shoe in his hands, brow creased. 

“Can I have that back?” he asked, voice flat. George thought it was probably the most polite thing that Sapnap had ever said to Dream. 

“Uh, sure,” Dream said, and tossed it back up. 

Sapnap caught it, struggling only slightly to keep hold of it, and turned away. He grumbled as he shoved his foot back in. He looked over his shoulder at Dream, and George watched as the ‘thanks’ died on his tongue. 

And, well, George couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. 

“And what do we say to the nice merman?” George teased gleefully. 

“Literally fuck off right now,” Sapnap bit out. He was very clearly no longer in the playful mood. 

“Language!” Bad snapped. He hesitated before adding, “But you should at least say ‘thank you.”

Sapnap scowled. “Thank you for doing the bare minimum,” he snapped, not even bothering to look at Dream. 

“Sure,” Dream agreed easily. 

George met his eyes and smiled, shrugging. Dream tipped his head again, and George was almost sure he was stifling his own grin. 

“Anyway,” Bad said, shaking his head, “do you… have…?” He trailed off, frowning at Dream’s obviously empty arms. 

“No,” Dream said simply. He paused, looking expectantly at Sapnap.

Sapnap snorted. “Of course not,” he sniped. “What did I say?”

“Have you ever tried to carry a chest full of gold by yourself?” Dream asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

George sniggered into his hand. As bad as it was, Dream and Sapnap had built a particular dynamic. They bounced off each other almost naturally, anticipating the other’s snide comments and biting remarks. If they hadn’t hated each other, George would have been jealous. 

Sapnap wrinkled his nose spitefully. “Have you?” he shot back. 

Dream’s ears twitched, but he didn’t dignify that with a response. “I’m not about to carry that for miles to get back here,” he said.

Bad frowned. “So you want us to take _Muffin_ to the sunken ship?” 

Dream shook his head. “That would take too long. You guys have, like, an emergency vessel right? For if the ship goes down?”

George shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “We could take _Muffinette_.”

Dream stopped and made an incredulous face. Then he shook his head, looking almost disappointed. “The way you name things…” he muttered. 

“They’re _great_ names!” Bad defended.

“Yeah, shut up!” Sapnap jumped in, despite never once having liked those names in his life. 

Dream held his hands up. “Sure, yeah, whatever,” he appeased. “All I’m asking is if it’s a smaller boat.”

“Yeah, _Muffinette_ is smaller,” Sapnap said, now clearly lording the name over Dream’s head. 

Dream rolled his eyes. “Great. So now I just need... one of you to come with me.” He very carefully did not look at George.

George pretended his heart didn’t absolutely sink right into his heels.

Everyone on deck fell silent. Bad pursed his lips, looking delicately away from the merman. Sapnap curled his lip unabashedly. George… well, George was torn between staring hopefully at Dream and walking right the fuck away. He didn’t—it wasn’t like he _needed_ to go. And Dream clearly didn’t want him there anyway. 

Dream swallowed. “Bad?” he asked. 

George’s mouth flopped open. _Seriously?_ He was gonna ask _Bad_ before he asked George?

Bad flinched, looking sheepishly back. “Sorry,” he said, “but I have to stay and man the ship. And, besides, I’m not very strong anyway.”

Sapnap snorted, and George almost agreed with him. Anyone could man the ship; he just didn’t want to go. Which, fine. Whatever. 

Dream looked briefly at Sapnap, who raised his eyebrows in return. Dream winced, and finally, _finally_ looked to George.

He glared, pretending like he hadn’t been absolutely itching for Dream’s eyes to be on him moments before. “Fine,” he snapped. 

Dream nodded sharply, eyes skittering away. “Good,” he said. “Let’s get going, then.”

***

George regretted agreeing to this. 

He huffed out an exhausted breath, sweat dripping down his face. His arms burned. Fuck, his _everything_ felt pretty terrible at this point. 

He _hated_ paddling in the ocean. 

Dream surfaced astride the little boat, frowning. “You can’t go _any_ faster?” he asked impatiently. It was the fourth time he had asked such a question.

George threw the paddles down, fire in his eyes. “I don’t know if you’d _noticed_ ,” he snarled, finally losing patience, “but this is fucking _hard_ , okay? I’m doing my best.” He paused, sopping the sweat from his face with the bottom of his shirt. 

Dream looked away, ears flattening down. “Sorry,” he muttered. “This is just taking way longer than I anticipated. I can swim this distance in less than an hour.”

George snorted. “Well, if you have any better ideas, let me know,” he snapped. He reached under his seat, pulling out the stowed water bottle. He took a few glorious sips, letting his shoulders relax some. 

He couldn’t blame Dream for being impatient, really. He thought this would be a faster trip, too. Dream certainly made it out to be a quick little venture, just a couple miles away. 

As they found out, a quick swim did _not_ equal a quick paddling trip. 

Dream sat up in the water, looking very much like he had come up with a better idea. He turned to George, grinning, and asked, “Do you have any rope with you? Or something functionally the same?”

George frowned, screwing the cap back onto the bottle. “I mean…we have a life preserver on a rope,” he offered reaching around to grab said donut. He held it up for Dream to see. 

Dream grinned wider. “Perfect,” he said. “It it attached to the boat?”

George shook his head. “No, does it need to be?”

“Yeah, go ahead and tie it on. Preferably somewhere that’ll keep the boat centered.”

George squinted at Dream. Slowly, realization dawned on his features. “Are you going to… _pull_ us there?” he asked incredulously. 

Dream smirked in a very self-satisfied fashion. “It’ll be faster,” he said. 

George raised an eyebrow. “ _Maybe_ ,” he countered. “Only if you’re _strong enough_ to pull me any faster.”

Dream snorted. “Of course I am,” he said, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. 

George looped the rope evenly through the paddle rings, tying the loose end back onto the life preserver. “Sure,” he agreed lightly. “We’ll see.”

“We will,” Dream returned. George knew Dream had accepted the challenge in his tone. He grinned. Perfect. 

George tossed the life preserver to Dream, who readily slipped his torso through the hole. He adjusted as well as he could, trying desperately to not get his fins caught on the plastic. The buoy was clearly not made for a body like his. 

“Ready?” he called, pulling until the ropes grew taut.

George laughed. “Go for it,” he agreed, crossing his legs and sitting back on his hands. 

Dream grinned back at him. Then he dove forward. 

The boat was yanked forward, throwing George off of his seat completely. He landed on his back, legs caught on the bench in front of him. Even without looking up, he knew the boat was positively _rocketing_ forward. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” he muttered, sitting back up. 

The ocean was flying by, and George was coasting on top. Dream was filtering in and out of the waves up front, almost like a dolphin, but much less flamboyant. 

Dream turned back, never breaking pace, and had the audacity to _wink_ at George. 

He changed his mind. Dream was a million times more flamboyant than any sea creature. 

George laughed breathlessly. The wind stole it away, whipping it right from his throat. Shakily, he stood from the seat, feeling each lurch under his feet. He took a deep breath and screamed triumphantly, raising his hands to the sky and feeling the blast at his palms. The sound he made was joyful—forgetful of anything else he had known. This was all he ever _wanted_ to know again. The biting wind in his face, the exhilaration of screaming at the top of his lungs, the salty spray on his skin. The playful smile and ensuing splash that found their way to him from the front of the boat. 

“Hey!” he protested, still giggling. He looked around for something to retaliate with, but there was nothing at his disposal. Instead, and leaned over and gave one of the ropes a tug. 

Dream looked over his shoulder, grinning wildly. He flipped over, still swimming, albeit slower. He aimed a powerful splash with his tail toward the little boat. 

“No!” George shrieked, promptly getting drenched anyway. He glared, but it melted away when he heard Dream cackling ahead. “Jerk!” he called without venom. 

Dream laughed but didn’t respond, flipping back onto his stomach. 

Gradually, their journey slowed. Dream started pausing to look around and altering their course as necessary. Then, finally, they came to a complete stop, Dream slipping out of the life preserver. 

He swam around to the side of the boat, grinning up at George. His cheeks were ruddy and pinked, and he was breathing a little harder than usual. 

George’s heart _didn’t_ jump. And even if it did, it was because of… unrelated causes. 

Then, all at once, the glee washed away from Dream’s face. He became a carefully neutral mask once more. “We’re here,” he said simply. 

George gaped. He didn’t understand what was happening. Why was Dream being so—so— _cold_? Did George do something wrong? Or was he just being an _ass_ for the sake of it?

Anger bubbled in the pit of George’s stomach. He was done with this false ‘silent guy’ treatment. He _knew_ something was up with Dream. And he was getting sick of it _real_ fast.

“What is your _problem_ with me?” he finally blurted. It came out much more accusatory than he expected, but it was too late to back down. 

Dream paused, turning indifferent eyes on him. “What?” he asked simply. There was no tone, no inflection. He didn’t even sound bothered. 

“You—you—you have no _personality_ anymore! What’s _wrong_ with you?”

Dream raised his eyebrows a centimeter. “Sorry?” he said, shrugging. He offered no further explanation, turning his back to George. 

“No, you don’t get to just _‘sorry’_ me,” George snapped. “Look at me, you coward.”

Dream turned back around, and he looked the slightest bit more exhausted. Good. 

“Did I do something _wrong_?” George asked, voice breaking on the last word. He grimaced. He didn’t mean to sound that… pathetic. He cleared his throat. “Or is it something else?”

Finally, some real emotion broke through Dream’s facade. He winced, looking supremely guilty. “No, it’s not you,” he said, looking to the side. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?”

“No, see, it’s too late for that,” George huffed, “because I’ve been worrying for the past however-long-it’s-been, and did you seriously just try to pull an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? Fuck off.” 

Dream’s face contorted, like he had tasted something bitter. Hopefully, it was his own indecency. “Listen, George,” he said, “just forget about it, okay? It’s not your fault. I’m just… we’re just keeping our space, alright?” He flicked his tail, shifting away in the water. “Now, are you gonna help me get this chest, or what?” He dove down, not waiting for a response. 

George stared at the ripples left behind. “Keeping our space?” he repeated incredulously. “Abso _lutely_ not.” And so, he dove down after. 

The water closed over the space he had been, and the boat rocked, starting to drift away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! thanks for reading!!! 
> 
> also i am SO SORRY i was gone for SO LONG!!! i meant to get this out a couple weeks ago but i broke my laptop and writing on my phone is just. awful. so im so sorry!!! it wont happen again tho! laptop is fixed and we're back on track :)
> 
> anyway!! this chapter is longer than usual to make up for it!! so i hope you enjoyed!!!
> 
> also, thank you guys for the continual support and love on this fic, it really makes me happy :) <3<3<3 every single comment goes straight to my heart and all ur kudoses are MUCH appreciated <3<3<3 u guys are the best!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Guess you’ll just have to swim fast, then,” he said.
> 
> Dream snorted. “Fine. Let’s go.” Without another word, he snatched George up and dove under the waves. George barely had the chance to suck in a breath before they were plummeting downwards.
> 
> * * *

Dream’s tail flickered tauntingly ahead of him. The merman was so much quicker underwater, which was to be expected. George kicked his feet, ignoring the chill creeping down his spine. 

The sunken ship wasn’t actually too far down. The top of its mast was only a few meters away from the surface. However, the mast reached much deeper than anticipated. George paused, gauging the distance. It was… far. He turned and swam back to the surface, hoping Dream would see. 

He gasped when he broke through the water, inhaling large gulps of air. The boat had drifted away a little, and he grimaced at it. Hopefully it wouldn’t go too far. 

Overhead, the sky grew darker. Clouds began gathering into clumps, grey and menacing.

Dream surfaced a moment later, frowning at George. “How long can you hold your breath for? I feel like that’s a question I should have asked up front.”

George moved to float on his back. “Uhhh…” he trailed off. He hadn’t tried in quite a while. 

Dream sighed. “Okay. Fine. That’s fine. We can still do this. I’ll just swim you down there as fast as possible and then we’ll carry it back up together. Easy.”

“I’m—I can go at least a minute,” George offered. 

Dream raised his eyebrows. “Just a minute?” he asked. 

George glared. “I don’t think you really understand how lungs work,” he sniped. 

Dream shrugged. “No, probably not. That’s still really short.”

George scowled, pressing his lips together. He knew Dream was just trying to distract him from the issue at hand—namely, their little quarrel. He wanted to grab Dream by the shoulders and force him to talk, to tell George why he was trying to keep his space. Why he so suddenly became concerned with keeping George at an arm’s length. 

But he knew he wouldn’t get anywhere right now. Not when Dream had the advantage, and not when their mission was so pressing. Also, George was freezing his ass off, so he wanted to get this over with ASAP.

“Guess you’ll just have to swim fast, then,” he said, instead of all the accusations piling up inside his head.

Dream snorted. “Fine. Let’s go.” Without another word, he snatched George up and dove under the waves. George barely had the chance to suck in a breath before they were plummeting downwards.

George’s ears popped, objecting to the rapid change as they got farther and farther from the surface. He pressed his eyes closed, the salt water burning as it rushed past. 

The water got icier the deeper they went. Dream’s palms were like heating pads against George’s ribcage, and he repressed a shudder. 

Then, all at once, Dream released him. George’s eyes popped open to find himself floating a meter or so above the sunken deck. Dream had already swum down, towards the gash in the side of the ship. George glared, following suit. Clearly, Dream couldn’t be bothered to hold onto him for the extra few strokes it would take to get inside. 

_Fine_ , he thought bitterly. _Be like that, then._

He kicked, propelling himself towards the jagged hole. He squeezed his way through, shirt catching momentarily on a sharp plank. When he pulled himself free, he saw Dream swimming through the cabin, looking at various sunken artifacts critically. 

Dream looked up and caught George’s eye. He opened his mouth, almost as though he were speaking, but the only things that came out were bubbles and muffled, choppy humming. He gestured to the ship at large, then pointed randomly throughout the cabin. 

George furrowed his eyebrows and tipped his head. What.

Dream frowned. He gestured again, moving his mouth in the same way. 

George wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. He pointed to his ear and mouthed, ‘ _what?_ ’

Dream let out an exasperated bubble (which George suspected was actually a sigh) and made three sharp motions. He pointed to his eyes, then to a chest on the other side of the cabin, then threw his arms around, gesturing to the ship at large. 

Oh. ‘ _Look for chests around the ship._ ’ Right. Okay. He could have just said so. 

George turned and made his way over to a door on the opposing side of the room. When he opened it, he noticed how starkly black it was inside. While the main cabin had muted sunshine filtering through gashes and cracks in the hull, this room had no such luxury. George would have thought it was airtight, except for the obvious amount of water filling the room and lack of any oxygen. 

Speaking of…

George’s lungs tightened. Shit. He needed to get out _now_.

He swam back through the main cabin, glancing around for Dream, who had his head buried beneath a rather suspiciously-upright couch. Fuck. Fine, George could make it on his own. Totally. He was a strong swimmer. 

He wriggled back through the gash in the side of the boat and looked up. 

His heart sunk. 

The surface looked almost impossibly high up. 

He repressed a sigh (he couldn’t really afford to lose any air at this point) and kicked as hard as he could. 

George rose steadily through the water, but. 

His throat felt like fire, squeezing tight. His lungs felt too full, like they were about to burst. His ears started ringing. His head spun. 

Oh, fuck. Was he going to pass out? He couldn’t pass out now. That would be the most embarrassing thing ever. He had _just_ told Dream he could hold his breath for a full minute. 

He kicked harder. He was _going_ to make it.

How long had it been, anyway? A minute? Thirty seconds? An hour? George didn’t know. 

Was the salt affecting his eyes, or was his vision dimming? His head pounded. Oh, fuck. Shit.

He was so dizzy. He really wanted to just close his eyes and breathe out. Surely that would be more comfortable. Release the pressure in his lungs and let his throat stop burning. 

Bubbles floated up from below his eyes, faster than he could hope to swim. Had those come from him? He didn’t know. 

Since when had he stopped kicking?

Something firm and warm wrapped around his torso. The water around him got faster. Then, suddenly, he could breathe again.

He coughed, spewing salty water from his mouth. He didn’t know when _that_ had gotten there. He sucked in the cold, fresh air and relished in the feeling of breathing again. Man, you never know what you love until you lose it. 

It took him a few seconds too long to realize Dream was speaking. The ringing in his ears drowned out the syllables, and he shook his head. 

“What?” he muttered, voice rough from the saltwater. He knew his eyes probably looked entirely too glassy and unfocused to be healthy. 

“ _George_ ,” Dream breathed, “holy _fuck_ dude, don’t try to drown yourself like that. Just come _get_ me next time, oh my god. You fucking scared me.” His voice was fast and sharp, like he was trying to chide George, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Oh, so now you care,” George snapped. He blinked. Whoops. Should probably not antagonize the only thing keeping him floating, but George was an idiot, so. 

George turned his head enough to catch Dream wince. “I care,” he said weakly. He didn’t try to defend himself further, which George was grateful for, because he wanted to be completely coherent for _that_ conversation. 

The grey clouds released an ominous rumble. Overhead, the sky had turned completely grey, obscuring the sun. 

“Well, the good news is that I found the chest,” Dream said, breezing on. His voice still carried an edge, but George couldn’t identify it. “So, uh, you just catch your breath, and then we’ll go and swim it back up, yeah?”

George looked up. “Does it look like it’s gonna rain?” he mumbled. 

Dream followed his eyes. “Probably,” he agreed, “so we need to hurry. You good yet?”

George snorted. “No, just hold on a second. I almost passed out; that takes more than a few seconds to recover from.” 

“Well, hurry up then.”

George ignored him. He squinted, scanning the waves around them. “Where’s the boat?” he muttered. 

Dream paused, looking around as well. “It can’t be far. It’s fine, we’ll just go and grab the chest before it gets any farther. Then we’ll be out of here before the storm starts.”

George frowned. “I don’t know,” he said. Around them, the water grew more aggressive. “Maybe we should find the boat first.”

“It’s fine,” Dream repeated. “It can’t be far. You ready yet?”

George debated momentarily. “Yeah, sure, fine,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

This time, Dream allowed him to suck in a deep breath before plunging under the waves. 

It was no less cold than the first time. George grit his teeth, shiver running down his spine. Dream’s arms were still impossibly warm on his ribs, and the contrast between skin and water was starkly evident.

The water grew dark very quickly. George suspected the clouds overhead had something to do with the rapidly dimming light. He was sure it hadn’t been this dark before. 

Dream reached the gash in the side of the ship, but this time, he didn’t leave George behind. He let go and swam ahead, but checked constantly over his shoulder, as though George would disappear if he wasn’t careful. When George wriggled his way through the hole, Dream instantly took hold of his wrist and led him into the cabin. The water around George’s cheeks felt warm all the sudden. 

Dream ended up leading him into the dark room he had opened before. George… still couldn’t see shit. 

Luckily (or perhaps unluckily for George), Dream acted like he could see just fine. He continued confidently into the room, still holding tightly to George’s wrist. 

George squinted, trying to see where Dream was heading. He thought they were going towards the back corner, but he really couldn’t tell. His leg hit something solid and wooden, and he jumped, which was nearly imperceptible in the water. 

But Dream noticed. He stopped and turned to check on George. An invisible hand swept over his side and shoulder, but it was gone as quick as it came. George blinked unseeingly. 

Then Dream pulled him forward again, evidently satisfied that he wasn’t injured. George followed him into the blackness, trusting that he knew where he was going. 

His lungs were starting to itch again. He closed his hand into a fist. They were so close. They had to be. 

Dream pulled his hand down, and George’s body followed suit. Dream pushed George’s palm up against something wooden and released him. George frowned. Was this it? He didn’t know. He felt around the splintery frame, hand coming into contact with what he thought was a lock. Or was it a handle? He frowned. Either way, he was pretty sure this was a chest. He hoped. 

Suddenly, the thing moved from underneath him. He jumped back, heart in his throat, before he realized it was probably just Dream lifting from the other end.

From the darkness across from him, he thought he heard Dream mumbling. Or maybe Dream was yelling, but it sounded like mumbling to him. Either way, the water stifled the noise.

He fumbled forward through the water, finding his way back to the little chest. He felt around until he found the handle again (he was fairly sure it was a handle) and grabbed on. Then, he pushed off of the floor with his feet.

Oh, fuck. 

This thing was _heavy_. 

He supposed he understood why Dream didn’t want to bring this back all by himself now. 

George grit his teeth and kicked forward, determined to get the stupid chest to the surface as fast as possible. He felt Dream tug from the other end, and then they were off, back towards the light. 

They made it out of the black room soon enough, and George blinked in the dim light. 

Dream, for his part, looked like he was doing okay. His face was screwed in determination, and it seemed like he had to work to move his tail in the right way to accommodate the chest, but he didn’t seem like he was having nearly as much trouble as George. 

George frowned, kicking harder. Of course Dream would be stupid-strong, along with everything else. But, of course, George already knew that from the boat ride over. Still, it stung, just a little bit. 

They maneuvered out of the ship delicately, taking turns holding up the weighted chest so the other could slip through the gap. George had to kick his legs faster than ever to keep in place. Then, once they had their grip again, they began making their way up. 

The current battered them ruthlessly. George squinted into the harsh water, gauging how far they were from the surface. They were about halfway up the mast, and he could tell that the waves had gotten rougher since they had gone down. 

Foamy, white bubbles were pushed and pulled endlessly near the top, delicately spraying his face when they were close enough. He kicked, calves starting to burn with the effort. 

George broke the surface and gasped for air, water running from his hair and into his face. He kicked hard to keep his head up, chest weighing heavily on his arms. They ached, and he strained to keep from sinking down. 

The clouds had broken while they were under. Rain was pounding down around him, pelting his face with little bullets of water. The sound of water on water assaulted his ears, drowning out anything else. He sputtered helplessly, and took a swift glance around. 

Dream was looking around as well, growing more and more panicked. 

“Where’s the boat?” George yelled over the roaring storm. 

Dream opened his mouth futilely. His eyes were wide, and he seemed almost more scared than George. 

“I don’t know!” he yelled back. He looked around again. “I’m going to go look for it. Can you stay on your own for a minute?” His mouth was drawn in a panicked grimace.

George balked. He really didn’t know if he could stay afloat with the chest by himself. But he _knew_ he couldn’t last much longer without the boat, either. 

“Yeah,” he decided to call back. “But hurry!”

Dream nodded once sharply. Then, he gently released his end of the chest. 

It sunk down, nearly dragging George with it. He kicked furiously, barely managing to keep his head above water. 

When he looked up again, Dream had disappeared, quick as a bullet. The waves crashed around him, tossing him carelessly in their towering heights. He was pushed under by a particularly aggressive wave, and he fought to get back up. 

The chest seemed impossibly heavy. Bubbles floated from his nose as he snorted with the effort of pulling it back to the surface. 

He broke through only to be shoved back under. This time, he recovered quickly enough, but the waves weren’t done with their tantrum yet. He choked on a mouthful of seawater, trying to regain his breath. Oh, god. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this. 

“Dream!” he screamed helplessly. He didn’t know if the merman would hear him, but he doubted it. 

A Goliath of a wave crashed over him. George tumbled down, holding tight to the chest. He _refused_ to lose the one thing they had worked so hard for.

The wave had pushed him farther down than before, putting him right by the top of the mast. He glanced at it, idea forming in his head. 

George pulled the chest along underneath himself, aiming for the flat circle at the top of the wooden beam. Gently, he lowered the chest until it was square over the mast. He rested it there, shoulders aching fiercely with the sudden release. 

This worked for about three seconds. Right as he was swimming up to steal another gulp of air, the current blasted him sideways. With it went the chest, sinking perilously fast. 

_FUCK_ , George thought loudly, pivoting in the water and shooting after it. He _would not_ lose this stupid chest. 

Belatedly, he realized he hadn’t taken a proper breath in a little too long. 

He ignored his screaming lungs and snatched the chest out of the water, sinking a couple meters with the momentum. He pulled back, kicking furiously, desperately trying to stop the chest from going any lower. 

Except. 

He didn’t think he was kicking nearly hard enough. He was losing ground with every second. 

And. 

He was really lightheaded. 

And, fuck, his vision was getting narrower again, wasn’t it? 

He looked up. The surface seemed a million miles away, and growing steadily further. 

He closed his eyes. He needed to do this. Dream was relying on him. 

He would not lose this chest. 

… 

He didn’t know when he stopped kicking. 

***

A hand swatted at his grip urgently. Instinctively, he released whatever he was holding, realizing too late that he had just dropped the chest. 

His eyes popped open, gaze cloudy black. Vaguely, he saw the outline of something solid, sinking faster than he could hope to catch. 

He registered hands gripping him underneath his arms, and then he was rocketing upwards, the rushing water pulling his eyelids closed again. 

He didn’t know when he had broken the surface, but suddenly, he was retching and gasping, body instinctively doing what it needed to keep him alive. 

The din of the storm rang in his ears, roaring louder than whatever Dream was saying behind him. 

He gasped, throat burning. “The chest,” he choked, trying to struggle away. He needed to get it. He promised. 

“We’re leaving it,” Dream yelled in his ear, finally breaking through the ringing. 

George’s mouth flopped helplessly. “But—we need it,” he protested. In his flailing, his hand smacked against something wooden. He jerked back, belatedly registering that the boat was right in front of him. 

Dream hefted him up, pushing George’s torso over the edge of _Muffinette_. George slumped down, completely out of energy, and Dream pushed his legs into the boat behind him. 

“We’re going back _now_ ,” Dream shouted, peeking his head over the side to look at George. “You have almost died _twice_ now, and both times were my fault. I’m not going to risk you for some stupid gold, okay? I can’t—I can’t do that.” His face was distraught, and he looked away at the last sentence. 

George opened his mouth to protest again— it wasn’t Dream’s fault, he should know his own limits, they really, _really_ needed this gold— but suddenly the boat was off again, Dream pulling from the still-attached buoy. 

George didn’t even attempt to sit up. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. As it turned out, convincing yourself not to drown took a pretty big toll on your brain. Who knew. 

He let himself lay in the bottom of the boat, feeling the rain batter his face. Thunder crashed overhead, and the waves rocked the boat viciously. George closed his eyes, wondering if it would be so bad to go to sleep right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!
> 
> initially i had two or three more scenes that were supposed to go into this chapter, but i decided to cut it off so i can hopefully get another chapter out sooner instead. so sorry for the cliffhanger, but another one's coming soon! promise
> 
> also, thank you all for the continuous comments and kudos!!! it has been super super amazing seeing all this support on a fic that I wasn't even sure I wanted to write!! so thank you guys so much, big hearts for all of u <3<3<3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bad! Are you guys there?”
> 
> Bad stood from beside the chest, eyes wide. “I didn’t think he’d be back so soon,” he said, striding over to the door. “Okay, I’ll be back soon. Dream will be glad to know you’re awake.” He turned and smiled at George before exiting the room. 
> 
> Sapnap stood as well, pausing and glancing at George. “I’m gonna talk to him too,” he said. “‘Back in a minute.” Before George could get a word of protest in, he was gone. 
> 
> George sat up on his elbows. His shoulders and arms screamed in protest, and he almost gave in. But… 
> 
> _I need to talk to him. Please._
> 
> * * *

Someone was pacing on the deck. 

Someone was very _annoyingly_ pacing on the deck. 

George scrunched up his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He let out a low, displeased groan that tore at his throat, and he winced. 

The pacing stopped. Then, rapid footsteps made their way over to his side.

“George?”

George frowned, screwing his eyes shut. He did _not_ want to get up. His head was starting to throb. His throat hurt. He _ached_. In fact, now that he was paying attention, his whole body was sore. He felt like he had been run through the ship’s engine. Twice. 

“George, are you awake?”

He groaned, and then immediately regretted it when his throat flared in protest. 

“Oh my goodness, _George_ ,” Bad gasped. A hand flitted over his cheek and forehead, radiating warmth over them. “Can you hear me? George?”

The fast-paced talking made George’s head pound. He managed to crack open an eye to find Bad leaning over him, concern clear on his face.

“Yeah,” he croaked. His voice was ragged and broken, like salt crystals has formed on his vocal cords. It hurt, it ached, and he winced. 

“ _George_ ,” Bad practically sobbed, and before George knew what was happening, he had been swept up in a fierce hug. 

George tried to return the gesture, but his arms screamed in protest. He gave up and let himself be swaddled in Bad’s arms. It hurt, but he didn’t say anything. Bad had clearly been worried enough about him. 

All at once, Bad released him, careful to not drop him back onto the bed harshly. “Hang on,” he said, starting to back towards the door, “hang on, let me just—Sapnap!” he yelled, turning his back to George, who flinched at the volume. “Sapnap, he’s awake!”

There was a beat of silence, then footsteps thundered down the hall. “Geeeooooorge!” Sapnap screamed, bursting into the room. His momentum didn’t slow for a second before he was on top of George, pulling him into a somehow even more aggressive hug than Bad’s. 

George let out a puff of air, muscles aching fiercely. He knew that words were streaming out of Sapnap’s mouth, but he couldn’t hear a single one. His head spun, putting pressure on the backs of his eyes. He was beginning to feel sick. 

“... and you’re a _moron_ , you know that? Just a right fuckin’ idiot. You are _so_ lucky I didn’t kill your stupid fishy boyfriend for almost killing you. I totally should have; you both deserve it. Ugh, I’m just—you’re so stupid. _So_ stupid,” Sapnap was saying when George was finally able to tune in. He couldn’t see, but he could hear the tears welling in Sapnap’s eyes.

George’s brain was slow to process. When it finally did, his eyes snapped open (which made his headache a thousand times worse). “Dream,” he blurted, “where is he—is he okay? What happened?” The words ripped at his fragile throat, but he ignored it.

Sapnap instantly pulled away, holding onto his arms. A look of disbelief was painted onto his face—along with some tears—and he laughed wetly. “You are fucking unbelievable,” he said. “He’s fine, you idiot. _You_ are the one that almost died here; can we please focus on that? For like, a minute?”

George squirmed under the scrutiny. “But the gold,” he protested. His memory was foggy, but he was almost certain they left it behind. Hadn’t they? He remembers holding on to the chest for far too long, and being dragged below. And the remembers flashes of the boat ride home, cold and dark. He doesn’t remember a chest. 

And what of Dream? Was he alright? It was a rough storm, George knew that much. Not to mention Sapnap’s inevitable wrath when they got back to _Muffin_ , George unconscious in the bottom of the boat.

“Actually,” Bad interrupted, “Dream got it.” He made his way over to an adjacent side of the room and toed an old, worn chest into view. The wood was dark and rotted, and the metal edging was rusted. Algae clung to the planks, giving it a green tint. 

George frowned, brain still struggling to catch up. “But,” he protested, but he didn’t have any more words. He looked at Bad, head tilted. “What?” he asked. 

Bad sighed, coming to sit on the bed next to George’s reclined body. Sapnap scooted away, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. “Let’s catch you up to speed,” Bad said, folding his hands in his lap. He paused, and patted the pillow behind George’s head. “Rest,” he insisted. 

George complied, relaxing back onto the bed. His muscles ached, even from the minimal use, and he got the feeling that he wouldn’t be wanting to leave the bed anytime soon. 

Bad settled back down, taking a deep breath before beginning his story. 

“When the storm started, Sapnap and I knew something was wrong. We figured that you would have been back by then, if it had been up to you.”

“I did think that we should go back before it started,” George agreed, “but he was—we were determined to get the chest first.”

Sapnap scowled, but it was offset when he snuffled miserably. “I’m sure,” he muttered. 

Bad ignored this, breezing on. “It was about another hour before we saw you two again, but you were unconscious in the bottom of the boat, and Dream was yelling for us. He kept saying, like—,” Bad put on his best Dream impression, which wasn’t very good— “‘I’m so sorry, please don’t let him be dead. I really need to talk to him. Please.’”

George sat up a little. “He said he needed to talk to me?”

Sapnap groaned, throwing himself dramatically back, on top of George’s legs. “Why are you so STUPID?” he sniped.

George flushed. “I am not,” he argued. To prove his point, he stuck his tongue out at Sapnap like a petulant child.

Sapnap rolled his eyes, and Bad hid his smile behind his hand before he continued, “We got you out of there and promised Dream we would look after you. Sapnap and I took turns staying up and watching you to make sure your lungs didn’t fill with water. It was too stormy to get you to a medic, or else that’s what we would have done. Regardless, we were really lucky that you turned out to be okay.

Dream came back after the storm, and he had the chest with him. He told us that he was sorry again, and asked after you. You were obviously still unconscious at this point, so we sent him away for the time being.”

“I was _so close_ to jumping in and beating him up, you have no idea. If he hadn’t come back with the chest, I absolutely would have rocked his shit,” Sapnap said, sitting back up.

“Language,” Bad chided quietly. “So that’s how we got the chest. However…” he trailed off, and glanced at Sapnap, who frowned back. “It’s not _quite_ as full as we would have hoped.”

George’s eyebrows drew together. “What? What do you mean?”

Bad got up and walked to the chest, crouching in front of it. He messed with the lock for a moment before the lid popped open, revealing… 

George sat up, open mouthed. 

There was gold in the chest, sure. More prominently, however, sat several large, black stones. They took up the majority of the space in the chest, leaving only the gaps to be filled with gold coins and a few odd gemstones. 

“Seriously?” George asked shrilly. The sound scorched his throat, and he swallowed before he continued, “That thing weighed, like a million pounds! I thought it was all gold!” 

“I one-hundred percent guarantee that Dream switched out a ton of gold for those rocks,” Sapnap said, crossing his arms. 

George wrinkled his nose. “Why would he do that? He said that mer—uh, mer-people don’t even use money.”

Sapnap seemed unimpressed. “Look, all I’m saying is, gold is gold, you know? I think it’s entirely possible that he has some kind of devious plan for it.”

Bad rubbed his chin, glancing down at the contents of the chest. “Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe these rocks had some kind of value to the ship that was carrying them?”

Sapnap rolled his eyes. “Sure, _maybe_ , but I seriously doubt it. I bet Dream took as much as he could hold and replaced it with the rocks, thinking we wouldn’t know the difference.”

George shook his head, slight smile on his face. Sapnap, as always, was determined to think the worst of Dream. But before he could voice any more objections, a voice rang from outside the cabin. 

“Bad! Are you guys there?”

Bad stood from beside the chest, eyes wide. “I didn’t think he’d be back so soon,” he said, striding over to the door. “Okay, I’ll be back soon. Dream will be glad to know you’re awake.” He turned and smiled at George before exiting the room. 

Sapnap stood as well, pausing and glancing at George. “I’m gonna talk to him too,” he said. “Confront him about the rocks. ‘Back in a minute.” Before George could get a word of protest in, he was gone. 

George sat up on his elbows. His shoulders and arms screamed in protest, and he almost gave in. But… 

_I need to talk to him. Please._ The falsetto of Bad’s voice destroyed what would have been a meaningful sentence, but it was motivation enough. 

Slowly, George swung his legs over the side of the bed. Every muscle acted like it had been personally assaulted, and George winced. Jesus. Who knew that even his hips would be sore? 

When he finally pushed himself to his feet, he almost collapsed back onto the bed. _Fuck_ , his legs were sore. He stumbled over to the closest wall, leaning heavily against it.

 _Come on_ , he admonished himself. _Being sore has never stopped you before_. Then again, he had never been _this_ sore before. 

Slowly, he pushed himself off the wall, coming to stand on unsteady legs. His calves quivered momentarily, and he wiggled his toes experimentally. It didn’t help, but it didn’t make it hurt worse, either. George called it a win. 

He crept steadily across the room, coming to lean his weight on the doorframe. He only gave himself a moment of rest before he pushed himself up again. 

He almost collapsed with relief when he came in contact with the door to the deck. He managed to keep himself upright, however, when he heard bickering on the other side. Presumably, that was Sapnap giving Dream a piece of his mind. 

He sighed. Typical. George drew in a fortifying breath and pushed his way through. 

Bad noticed instantly. He had his back resting against the railing, looking supremely bored with Sapnap and Dream’s dynamic. When he saw George, he drew himself up with wide eyes. 

“George?” his voice rang across the deck, full of concern. 

Whatever Dream had been saying was forgotten immediately. “George?” he repeated, sounding decidedly happier than Bad. 

Sapnap spun around, eyes wild. “George!” he called, decidedly more upset than Dream. “What the _hell_ are you doing up?”

George opened his mouth, but no response came. Bad scurried to his side, closely followed by Sapnap. Bad offered him an arm, and George didn’t have to think twice about taking it. He leaned on his friend, giving him a tired smile. 

“You should be in bed,” Bad worried, but he made no move to force George in that direction. 

“I have to talk to Dream,” George said simply. Sapnap snorted and rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. He placed himself on George’s other side, shoving his head under George’s arm until George was resting half his weight on Sapnap’s shoulders, too. 

Bad’s mouth pulled into a half-smile, half-grimace. “I figured,” he said. He sighed, thoroughly defeated. “Come on then.” 

George hobbled along, assisted on one side by Bad and Sapnap on the other, until they finally reached the railing. George took his arms back and placed them on the edge, leaning until he saw worried, earnest golden eyes staring back at him. 

“George,” Dream murmured again, face going through a series of emotions, too fast for George to place. 

“Okay, so we’re going to leave you two alone now,” Bad said, instantly feeling the mood about the deck. 

“We’re _what_?” Sapnap demanded, outrage making his voice crack. Bad didn’t respond, simply grabbing him by the back of the collar and dragging him away. Sapnap protested the whole time, jabbing an accusing finger towards George to emphasize whatever curse he had just uttered. Bad swatted the top of his head, and then they were gone, back into the cabin.

George watched them go and snorted. A deep-seated affection stirred in his chest, making his insides feel warm. Despite everything they said, they loved him. And he loved them, too, equally quiet but just as fierce. 

So it was a stark contrast when he turned back to Dream, and a different kind of affection jabbed at his heart. Annoyance, too, for all the unsaid words Dream hid, but that melted away quickly enough when Dream stared at him with all the concern in the world. 

“What?” he said, feeling his face flush under the soft scrutiny. 

Dream’s eyes flickered to his, and his eyebrows folded inwards with an unspoken feeling. “I’m just—I’m really glad you’re okay,” he murmured. 

George blew a raspberry, turning his face away. “What, me? Of course I’m fine. I was more worried about whatever damage Sapnap would have left you with.”

Dream chuckled lowly, and George peeked at him sideways. He didn’t seem fully appeased with that answer, but he dropped it anyway. “Sapnap’s got nothin’ on me.”

George smiled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He would, as he said, ‘rock your shit.’”

Dream let out a bark of laughter. He grinned up at George for a moment before his face morphed into something more serious. “Um, seriously though,” he started, clearing his throat. “I wanted to apologize. I, um—,”

George cut him off. “No, it’s not your fault that I’m not a good swimmer.” He tried to make light of it, shooting Dream a weak smile. “I should know when I’m, like, drowning or not.”

Dream furrowed his brows and looked at George with a not-quite-smile. “That’s, uh, not what I was going to apologize for. Although I disagree, I was the one that pushed you to stay with the chest. That one’s on me. _But_ ,” he went on, cutting off George’s protest, “still not what I was gonna say.”

Dream looked away, shifting in the water. He absently splashed miniature waves at the side of the boat, clearly thinking of the best way to phrase his apology. George let him take his time, watching the unconscious movement fondly. 

George straightened his back, face heating. _Fondly?_ he thought incredulously. 

_Fondly_ was not a good thing, in the long run. _Fondly_ implied affection and feelings and _care. Fondly_ made it very difficult to say goodbye, when this was all over. 

In short, _fondly_ was a problem.

But Dream didn’t give him a chance to dwell on this. Didn’t give him the chance to correct his mental process; amend it to something a little more manageable, like _amicably_ or _cordially_ or, god forbid, _affectionately_. 

George didn’t think any of those things—no, he was stuck on _fondly_ , like some sappy loser that _cared_. Meanwhile, Dream agonized over his apology, finally scraping together the right words.

“I’m sorry for, like—,” Dream stopped, heaving a deep breath, before trying again. “I’m sorry for trying to cut you out. And um, being all—let’s see, I think you called it, ‘having no personality’?” He glanced up at George through his eyelashes, and George’s heart gave a mighty stutter. For more reasons than one. 

“Sorry, that was rude, I—”

“No, no,” Dream interrupted, shaking his head. “You were totally right. I was like—I was trying to wear a mask, you know? Not let anything through. On both ends.” He looked down at the water, hands creating ripples in the space between his torso and the hull of the ship.

George furrowed his brows. “Why?” he asked simply. His heart was nearly _singing_ at this point, but he thought he was hiding it pretty well. This is exactly what he had wanted to hear before the storm hit on their mission. He finally felt like he was _getting somewhere_ with Dream, so sue him for wanting to know a little more. 

Dream sucked in a breath, almost like he was hoping George wouldn’t ask. George watched his tail swish beneath the waves, nearly snapping in agitation. Or nerves. Or some other unidentifiable emotion Dream was probably feeling. 

“I—it’s just—listen,” Dream stumbled, face growing increasingly strained as he failed to explain. “This is a really dangerous mission, you know? And I just—I can get like… attached. Easily. On accident. And I just didn’t want to—you know,” Dream finished lamely.

George’s eyebrows slowly rose as the explanation went on. “So…” he said finally, after a few seconds of silence. “You didn’t want to get attached to—to any of us because… we might die?” he tried to clarify. 

Dream’s head snapped up, alarmed. “No! Oh my god, no, I would never let that happen to you—to any of you.”

George tipped his head. “Then…?” he asked, leaving the question up for interpretation. 

“Uurgh,” Dream gurgled, burying his face in his hands. “Why is this terrible?” he asked at a volume that George probably wasn’t supposed to hear.

George snorted, looking at Dream with something akin to sympathy. He understood the struggle, at least on a basic level. Words were hard. 

“You know how Sapnap is towards to me?” Dream asked finally. 

George raised his eyebrows, but nodded nonetheless. 

“That’s probably a better way to handle this situation than you think.”

George spluttered, eyebrows twitching in confusion and shock. “What, like, completely distrustfully and suspecting you of every crime ever committed?”

Dream let out a little snort, but it didn’t deter his point. “Okay, maybe not the second part. But the whole, um, distrust is probably a safe bet. In the long run.”

George’s mouth hung open. What the _fuck_? “I think this is the second most confusing conversation I’ve ever had in my life,” George said faintly. Second only to a conversation with one particular man named Skeppy that Bad seemed to be very fond of. That was certainly a Day in George’s life.

“I know. Sorry,” Dream said. Evidently, though, he wasn’t done, because he went on, “It’s just probably safer, that way. Then, if something happens, or, like, when this is over it isn’t… an issue. For any of us.”

Very suddenly, the missing piece clicked in Georege’s brain. “Oh!” he said, looking down at Dream in shock. Dream had taken on a very guilty appearance, like he expected George to be mad. And he was, sort of, but not for the reasons that Dream thought. 

“You’re scared of getting attached and then losing us,” he translated quietly. 

“Well, no, I mean, that would be—that’s kind of—okay, so maybe somewhat. But I mean—listen, okay…” Dream fumbled looking very flustered indeed. 

Finally, he seemed to collect himself enough to blurt out, “You guys are just all very close, okay? And it shows. You’re all one big happy team, right? I don’t belong all mixed up in that. For more reasons than just one. So this is just business. Right? You guys are just helping me with the mission, then I’m out of there.” He deflated the more he spoke, looking more defeated by the minute. 

Meanwhile, George’s eyebrow was trying to break a world record and crawl all the way into his hairline. “Wow,” he said simply. He felt the awful _fondness_ creeping its way into his chest again, but he didn’t try to stop it. Dream was, simply, an idiot. An idiot that George very well may be getting some kind of affection for. 

“First of all,” George began, holding up a finger to make a point, “I defend your honor to my crewmates daily and all I get is _business_? In this economy? No thank you. I’ll take the friendship, _including_ all the risks it includes.”

Dream’s jaw nearly dropped at that, but George didn’t even give him time to process. He pressed on, “ _Second_ , I don’t know what gave you the impression that we were all ‘one big happy team,’ because that might literally be the farthest thing from the truth. We have to prevent Sapnap from jumping ship at regular intervals every month for something or another, and I hardly feel like I belong here at all. But you know what we _do_ have is trust. And we care about each other. And new applications for this crew are always open.” George stopped, letting Dream recover from the continual punches, before adding the knockout blow: “I have yet to see yours, though. I’ve been waiting.”

Dream’s mouth hung open, jaw working uselessly but producing no sound. Finally, he snapped his mouth shut and looked away. George was worried he had completely fucked the whole situation before Dream muttered, “You’re crazy. This is the worst way to go about recruiting people.”

George broke into a grin. “Then at least you know what you’re signing up for. And hey, it worked on you, right?”

***

George did not care to disclose the amount of time he spent recuperating on board the ship before he was deemed fit enough to continue with the mission. He was just _sore_ , for Christ’s sake. They didn’t need to _baby_ him so much.

(He did not, however, regret the amount of time he got to spend talking to Dream. George relished in the new closeness that came as a result of his blatant acceptance of Dream as part of their crew. 

They talked about almost anything they could think of. From families to interests to… Sapnap.

_“So, how does Sapnap feel about this whole… ‘part of your crew’ situation?” Dream asked innocuously._

_George wrinkled his nose. Sapnap was, expectedly, less than pleased. “He’ll come around to you,” he replied evasively._

_“So not very good, huh?” Dream said, interpreting George perfectly._

_“Listen,” George said, propping his chin on his hands, “he’s just one of those people that you have to win over. He has this whole ‘earn my trust’ thing that’s not letting him even consider you apart from what he already knows. And he’s just kind of a naturally aggressive guy. Give him time.”_

_Dream shrugged nonchalantly. “He might not come around, you know. I think he just genuinely hates me and looks for reasons to keep it that way.”_

_“I mean, kinda,” George agreed. “But I’m vouching for you. And besides that, I think he just likes to bicker with you. You guys have this kind of dynamic that works when you’re arguing.”_

_Dream’s mouth twitched, and the wrinkle between his eyebrows grew. “Sounds toxic,” he joked._ ) 

So George was finally in the clear, and the Muffinteers could finally move on to the next stage of their mission: acquiring a brewing stand. 

Dream directed them to the correct island and harbor, where he explained he knew there was a fairly large market. 

“Hopefully,” he said, “you’ll find a brewing stand around in there, as well as the fuel for it. And you have the list of ingredients I said?”

“Yes,” George said, patting the pouch in his bag where he had shoved it. “I still don’t know why we need _red sea warts_ though. That just sounds disgusting.”

“It’s all part of the process, baby,” Dream said, confidently flipping to float on his back. He shot a grin at a flushed George, who grimaced and opened up his pack, pretending to go through his things again. 

“I just hope we have enough money,” Bad said, looking worriedly at his own pouch. 

“It sure would be nice if we had _everything_ from the chest,” Sapnap said pointedly, levelling a glare at Dream. 

Dream sighed and rolled his eyes, but he was cordial when he responded, “I never even opened the chest dude, I just gave it to you.”

“Then how did you know there was gold in it?” Sapnap accused, preparing to settle into a very common groove of an argument. 

“Oh my god, both of you shut up. It is what it is,” George interrupted before Bad had the chance. “We’ll be fine. It’s pure gold and jewels, surely we have enough. We might even have some left over.”

Bad pursed his lips. “Here’s hoping,” he said. He looked up at the island ahead, then did a once-over on the _Muffin_. Finally, when he was satisfied that everything was in order, he gave them a little, unsure smile. 

“Let’s get going, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! thanks for reading!! holidays b wildin lol. anyway who else is ready for this year to be over!!! cause i am sure ready to move right along
> 
> anyway!! i just wanted to say i appreciate every single one of you that left kudos and comments, you absolutely fill my soul <3 and thank you for supporting me through these relatively long update waits!! it means a lot to keep getting comments even when i'm not updating. love yall <3
> 
> also i made some art for this!! i got a drawing pad for christmas and im absolutely jazzed about it, so i did some [merman dream](https://goodvibes-allaround28.tumblr.com/post/638912347448229888/a-mer-dream-from-my-fic-haha-dreamteam-fishhunt)!! there may be more coming, but i don't post on my tumblr a lot so who knows. anyway thank you guys again for reading!! happy holidays!!
> 
> note: this is pretty much unedited rn. its 1 am and i am desperate to post, so ill come back for the editing later. sorry luvs xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s _gotta_ be one around here somewhere,” Bad groaned. “Dream said there would be.”
> 
> “ _Hopefully_ ,” George corrected, glancing over a peculiar stand’s wares. “He said that there would _hopefully_ be one.”
> 
> Bad groaned again, positive mood finally beginning to fail him. “What do we do if we don’t find one? Just go back?”
> 
> George shrugged, pausing to trade some coins for a snack. He offered one to Bad, who declined dejectedly. As he pulled the gold from his pouch, he felt the back of his neck burn, as though someone were watching him. He whipped his head around, searching for the source of the feeling. 
> 
> No one was looking at him.
> 
> * * *

George really started to reconsider his excitement about market life when he came face-to-face with a dead fish. He yelped and flinched away from the rambunctious stand owner, hurrying to catch up with Sapnap and Bad.

The market bustled all around them. Merchants yelled about their wares and people haggled the prices. Shiny things, dead things, unusual things, everything was waved through the air, boasted and bragged. Although, it was mostly fish.

George wrinkled his nose at a particularly smelly stand, eyeing an array of dead eels. Gross.

“Okay,” Bad half-yelled, turning to face his companions, “I think we should split up. This is a pretty big market, and it would be better to cover more ground.”

George nodded, patting his bag as if to assure himself that it was still there. 

“George and I will stick together. Sapnap, you go that way,” Bad said, pointing down a branching isle. 

George frowned. “Why are we sticking together?” he asked, shifting to give the people passing behind him more room. 

Bad glanced at him, and George saw the calculating look in his eye. 

“I’m not good at haggling,” he explained. George snorted. He doubted he was any better, but okay, whatever. 

“You just want to keep an eye on me,” he accused lightly. Bad pursed his lips and looked to the side. Busted. “But fine, okay, we’ll go together. You and your stupid worry.”

Bad grinned, faltering when someone shoved him from the side. 

“Move out of the aisle, dickhead.”

“Say that again,” Sapnap snarled, reaching for his concealed knife and putting an arm protectively in front of Bad. 

The stranger glanced back and made a face, scornful. He opened his mouth, but someone else swatted him over the head before he had the chance to say anything. 

“Don’t bother them, Tommy. C’mon, we have to go.” The companion glanced back and nodded coolly before he turned and strode away. Tommy followed suit, but not before wrinkling his nose in their direction. 

Sapnap growled, but Bad pushed him lightly, and the mood lifted. “I’m fine, thank you,” Bad said gently. He shook his head, and a determined look reappeared on his face. “Back to the mission at hand,” he said. “Let’s meet back here as soon as we find as much of this list as we can.”

“How will we know what stuff the other has gotten?” George asked, ruffling through his pack to find the list. 

“We’ll divide up the common stuff, and then whenever we find one of the unusual things, we’ll just go ahead and buy it. I doubt most of this stuff is being sold in more than one place.”

Ducking between stalls to avoid another confrontation, the three divided up the list. 

“Okay, meet back here as soon as possible. Don’t get into trouble,” Bad said, raising his eyebrows at Sapnap.

He mock-saluted, replying, “No promises.” Then he grinned and swept away, disappearing into the crowd.

Bad shook his head, grabbing George by the wrist and tugging him in the opposite direction. “Okay, let’s go.”

They made their way carefully through the aisles, stopping occasionally to ask stand owners about their wares.

“Excuse me,” Bad paused to ask a merchant who was displaying a variety of herbs. “Do you happen to have any red sea wart?”

The merchant stopped their shouting to glance at Bad, brow furrowing. “‘Fraid not,” he said. “Stuff’s rather hard to get a hold of. Course, I might be able to tell you where to get some… depending on what you’re offering.”

George frowned and wrinkled his nose. “What _we’re_ offering?”

“Well, sure,” the merchant said easily. “I might recall with just a little _incentive_.”

Bad scoffed and rolled his eyes. “We’ll find it on our own. Thanks anyway,” he said, voice polite despite his annoyance. 

The merchant shrugged. “Suit yourself. Good luck.” 

As George turned away, he caught sight of the mischievous smile on the salesman’s face, and his stomach churned. He strode to catch up with Bad, leaning close to ask, “You sure we can find some? He seemed… I don’t know.”

Bad’s mouth curled unsurely. “It’s a market,” he reasoned. “How hard could it be? Besides, at least we know that there _is_ some here.”

George frowned, standing straight again. The merchant hadn’t said so explicitly, but it had been implied. He hoped it hadn’t been the _wrong_ implication. 

“Oh look!” Bad interrupted his thoughts. “Exotic fish! There’s gotta be a pufferfish over there.”

“Hopefully more than one,” George added, following Bad towards the foul-smelling stand. 

They managed to haggle for the four pufferfish the stand offered, only coming off slightly poorer from it. The merchant’s eyes widened when they handed him solid gold coins, and George could tell he wished he had haggled harder. 

_Ha_ , he thought smugly, _too bad. Those were overpriced anyway._

“Okay, that’s one of… five. Great! Four more things to go,” Bad chirped, finger tapping his list. 

George glanced at it. “One of six, if your count our general supplies. I think we’re gonna want more food, you know?”

Bad hummed. “True,” he said, and they set off again through the market, doing their best to fend off distractions. 

Slowly but surely, they found the requested materials. Something called magma cream (that looked rather gelatinous), rations and sterile water, and lastly… 

George stopped dead in the aisle, staring at a particular stall. The people behind him grumbled in displeasure, shoving him aside, but he ignored them. Bad continued on, blind to George’s crisis.

The stall in question was selling weapons. Knives and axes shone from the display, fresh polish making them sparkle. Spears and tridents were stacked neatly out of reach from the public, but still fully in view. That, however, wasn’t what made the stall special. 

George stared at the sword pinned up behind the stallowner. The blade had an unusual blue tone, emphasized by an unearthly sheen that coated the sharp edges. The ornate handle, decorated with gold touches and a comfortable grip, made the saber that much more attractive.

The merchant at the stand caught his gaze, grinning wide when he realized what George had been staring at. 

“You have excellent taste,” he complimented, unpinning the sword from the wall. He made a few grandiose slicing motions with the blade, and George’s eyes followed the movement. “This cutlass was made from one of the rarest—and _strongest_ —materials on earth. Could really turn the tide for whoever chose to use it in battle.”

“George?” Bad’s voice cut through his trance. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned, blinking, to face his friend.

“Also,” the stand owner jumped in again, desperate to get George’s attention back, “this blade is said to have an _enchantment_. Even I’m not sure exactly what it does—might be the greatest thing you’ll ever own.”

Though George wasn’t looking, he could tell Bad was making a face beside him.

“Enchantment?” he asked curiously, ignoring the incredulous look Bad was giving him. He shuffled closer to the stand, eyes completely locked onto the sword. 

“Oh, yes,” the merchant said eagerly, “an enchantment. I’ve only ever come across a few enchanted items in my life, but they’re incredible. It might give a boost to the strength of your swing, knocking your enemies backwards. It might set whoever you touch alight—hopefully, if that’s the case, it won’t set my _stall_ alight,” he broke off to chuckle at his own joke, but George didn’t join in. He cleared his throat and jumped back in to his pitch. “It might even be one of the rare few items to resist wearing down— no dulling of the blade, no chipping, no breaking. Truly a mystery.”

George heard Bad scoff behind him, and he reached to take George’s wrist. “George, we really shouldn’t waste money on this. C’mon we have to keep looking for a brewing stand.”

“Oh, all my wares are _very_ reasonably priced,” the merchant assured. 

“I’m sure,” Bad said flatly. “George, let’s go.”

“I mean, it might come in handy,” George reasoned, trying to pull back, but Bad was having none of it.

“No. We don’t need it. Let’s go.” 

“Make me an offer!” the merchant shouted after them, but they didn’t turn around. George frowned, pouting like a child being denied a toy. 

Bad caught sight of his expression as they made their way through the crowds again, and he covered a giggle. “Oh, come on, George. You didn’t really want that sketchy sword, did you?”

“It wasn’t sketchy,” George argued, deftly dodging the question. 

“It was _very_ sketchy. And you _know_ it was gonna cost an arm and a leg to get, anyway. We haven’t even found a brewing stand, yet!”

“Yeah,” George muttered, determinedly grumpy. Bad hip-checked him amicably, and George stifled a smile. Damn Bad and his never-ending positivity. 

They marched through the aisles for a while longer, stopping every once in a while to ask about brewing stands and blaze powder. Nobody seemed to have the answers they wanted. George’s mood fell further, and a worried grimace made its home on his face. 

“There’s _gotta_ be one around here somewhere,” Bad groaned after their sixth failed questioning. “Dream said there would be.”

“ _Hopefully_ ,” George corrected, glancing over a peculiar stand’s wares. “He said that there would _hopefully_ be one.”

Bad groaned again, positive mood finally beginning to fail him. “What do we do if we don’t find one? Just go back?”

George shrugged, pausing to trade some coins for a snack. He offered one to Bad, who declined dejectedly. As he pulled the gold from his pouch, he felt the back of his neck burn, as though someone were watching him. He whipped his head around, searching for the source of the feeling. 

No one was looking at him. 

He shook off the feeling, turning back to the original conversation. “I dunno. Go to the next island and try again?”

“We don’t have the time for that!” 

George furrowed his brows, taking a bite of the bread he purchased. “Are we on a time limit?” he asked through his mouthful. 

Bad pursed his lips. “I don’t know; don’t these kinds of quests always have some kind of time limit?”

George snorted. “You’re a dork,” he said affably. 

They walked on, and he glanced around again, feeling faintly unsettled. The sensation of someone watching him hadn’t entirely gone away, but he still couldn’t locate the source of his discomfort. 

As he was scanning the stands, his eye caught on something odd. A red curtain was hung delicately between two stalls, the gap wide enough to be an alleyway. The curtain rippled in the wind, revealing that it was not, in fact, an alley. It was another row of stalls. 

“Hey, check it out,” George grabbed Bad’s arm, pulling him to a halt. He pointed at the curtain. “Let’s go through there.”

“What? Why?” Bad asked, following as George pulled him along enthusiastically. 

“It’s, like, a hidden market. Surely they have the more rare stuff back here.”

“Or the sketchier stuff,” Bad grumbled, but trailed after George nonetheless. 

They pushed their way past the curtain, earning the side-eye from one of the adjacent stall owners. She didn’t say anything, and George chose to ignore her. This was fine. It was a free market. They were allowed to be here. There wasn’t exactly a bouncer at the entrance. 

George looked around eagerly. The stalls were, admittedly, a little seedier than the ones outside. And everything was, maybe, just a little more cramped. But that didn’t damper George’s hope. Surely they would find what they were looking for back here. 

The merchants at the stalls were much more subdued than the ones outside. They still called their offers, but the looks they cast at George and Bad were something short of friendly. 

George shuddered. Okay, so it was a little sketchy. Fine. Bad was right. 

He listened idly to the stallowner’s pitches as he passed, scanning the contents of each stand. 

“Interested in gaining abilities beyond your wildest dreams? We have an assortment of stews that can help with just that…” The stews all looked rather suspicious, if you asked George. 

“Enchanted books, spell scrolls, occult posters, we have it all! Take a look, you won’t be disappointed.” George squinted. Huh. The books really did have the same unnatural sheen as that sword. He didn’t know what the point of an enchanted book was, though. 

“We got all sorts of ender parts, here, folks. Ender squid beaks, tentacles, even got a few pearls! Never know how those could come in handy, huh?” 

George stopped at the last one, tugging on Bad’s sleeve. “Hey, didn’t Dream say we should get any ender pearls that we find?” he asked. 

Bad blinked at the stall, wrinkling his nose when he saw the… less-than-neat display. “Yeah, he did,” he said simply. 

They made their way over, catching the attention of the stallowner. He grinned toothily at them. He only had one eye. 

“Howdy, boys. Looking for something particular?”

George looked over the display, trying not to seem too appalled at the gorey state of things. “We heard something about ender pearls?” he asked nonchalantly, refusing to look the merchant in the face. 

“Ooh, a coupl’a trophy hunters, hmm?” he asked, rummaging for something behind the table. “Sure, I’ve got a few. What’re you offering for them?”

George paused unsurely. This… wasn’t how most stalls worked. The merchant usually had a price that was wildly above the actual value, and the buyer could haggle it down to something a little more reasonable. 

“What are you… asking for them?” he asked finally. He glanced at Bad, who seemed just as lost as he did. 

The merchant’s eye shined. “Oh, no,” he said. “I’d love to see what you think a good price for these is. It’s always amusing. So go ahead… make me an offer.”

Bad and George exchanged a look. George shrugged helplessly. Bad sighed, pulling out his money pouch and ruffling around. 

“How about,” he said, finally seeming to locate what he was after, “one of _these_ for every one of those.” He held up a deep green jewel, about the size of his thumb. George’s eyebrows shot up. He had nearly forgotten they had those. 

The merchant raised an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to believe that is real?” he asked critically.

Bad frowned, eyebrows drawing downwards. “It _is_ real,” he huffed. He placed it on the table in front of the merchant. “Here, look. You can test it out. It’s real.”

The merchant’s eyes flickered between Bad’s face and the gem before he hesitantly took it in his hand. He tested its weight, held it up to the light, and a series of other undecipherable assessments, before finally coming to the conclusion that it was, in fact, real. 

“Alright…” the stand owner said, beginnings of a smirk forming on his face. George’s stomach churned. He had the feeling they were about to walk away with less than they gained. “You want one-for-one, gem for pearl?”

“ _And_ ,” George jumped in quickly, thinking fast, “any information you have about where we can find a brewing stand and blaze powder.”

The merchant scrutinized him, but agreed relatively easily. “Alright, fair enough. How many of these do you have?” he asked, holding up the green jewel. 

“How many pearls do you have?” Bad countered, raising an eyebrow. 

The man rifled around behind the counter again, coming back with what looked like seven pearls. “Lucky number,” he grinned. 

Bad dug around in his satchel, bringing up four more jewels of varying colors. “George?” he asked, still ruffling around in his bag.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll look.” George dug out two more gems, setting them on the table alongside Bad’s. 

The merchant squinted. “That’s six,” he said, hand still hovering over one of the pearls. 

“Seven, counting the one you’re holding,” George countered, raising his eyebrow. 

The merchant chuckled, sweeping up the rest of the jewels. “Suppose so,” he agreed, not sounding upset in the least. “Didn’t hurt to try.”

“Uh-huh,” George said, unimpressed. “Thank you, anyway.”

“Come back anytime,” the merchant replied distractedly, setting the gems somewhere safe and out of sight.

“Wait,” George said as Bad turned to go. “What do you know about a brewing stand and blaze powder.”

The merchant’s eyes flickered to him momentarily. “Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, of course. Just down the row a ways on the left, there’s an old hag. Warts on her nose, lovely lady. Tell her Sammy puts in a good word for you.”

George looked down the way, trying to spot the stall in question. Nothing stood out to him. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he shivered. He looked around discreetly, trying to catch someone in the act of watching him, but again, he couldn’t see anybody. 

“George?” Bad asked, nudging his shoulder. “You coming?”

George flinched. “Yeah, yeah. Um, do you feel like…” he lowered his voice, glancing around again as he followed Bad. “Do you feel like maybe someone is watching us?”

Bad frowned, looking around. “Not really. Nobody seems to be paying much attention to us.”

George hummed, furrowing his brows. Bad was right, of course. The stallowners had all lost interest in their unusual presence, and the other patrons of the market couldn’t care less, but George couldn’t shake the feeling.

He glanced back and saw three people at Sammy’s stall, leaning over the counter almost threateningly, and another standing with his arms crossed, glaring at the rest of the alley. Briefly, one of them flickered their eyes in George and Bad’s direction.

“Oh, look,” Bad whispered, snapping George’s attention back, “I think that’s her.”

George followed Bad’s gaze, landing on an old woman. Her stall had an assortment of bizzare items: things in jars, strange colored mushrooms in pots, even a cauldron. He spotted what was most likely a brewing stand off to the side, nearly buried under other odd objects. 

She eyed them as they approached. Her face was twisted in a permanent grimace, and George wasn’t sure if it was intentional. It certainly wasn’t attracting any customers. 

“What can I help you with?” she asked, voice scratchy. Her gaze flickered warily between the two of them. 

“We’re, um, looking for a brewing stand?” Bad said, voice lilting upwards towards the end. “And blaze powder.”

“Uh, Sammy said he’d put in a good word for us,” George added quickly, seeing her tightening expression. 

All at once, the suspicion disappeared from her expression, and she cackled once loudly. George flinched back involuntarily at the volume. “Ah, Old Sam put ya through the ringer he calls a sale, huh? How did ya fare? If he’s putting in a _good_ word, I’d assume very poorly.”

“Well, now, I’m not really sure about that—,” Bad tried to argue.

“Aw, no matter, boys. You’re not the first to fall for his overpriced guessing system, and ya won’t be the last. Anywho! You’re here for a brewing stand, you said?” She interrupted, shuffling around to dig through the mishappen piles of… objects.

“And blaze powder,” George added. 

The hag waved a hand at him dismissively. “Obviously. Can’t use one without that stuff.” She finally seemed to locate something, cawing in triumph and grabbing a bag. She tossed it carelessly on the counter behind her, continuing the hunt for a brewing stand. 

George glanced at the shape off to the side, hidden behind an assortment banners, a crossbow, and what may have been a broken saw blade. “Um,” he spoke up, pointing at it hesitantly, “is that a, uh—?”

The merchant turned to where he was pointing, eyes widening and grin forming on her face. “Aha!” she cried, pulling it out and sending the other junk crashing around her. She was unperturbed. 

The brewing stand landed with a heavy _thud_ on the counter in front of them, and the hag set the previous sack neatly up against it. “Here ya are,” she rumbled. “One brewing stand and a few settings of blaze powder to go with it.” She shuffled to the side so she could scrutinize their faces. “What’re ya payin’ in?”

George and Bad glanced at each other. Bad pulled out his bag, which was significantly lighter than George’s at this point. George tactfully kept his own bag of gold hidden. 

“Gold, if that’s quite alright with you?” Bad said, opening his bag to show the merchant. 

Her eyes widened, and a little grin made its way onto her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but— 

“Oh, that’s more than alright with _me_ ,” an accented voice came from George’s left. The blade of a sword embedded itself in the wood of the stand, and George jumped backwards. 

He whipped his head around to find a vaguely familiar face looking at the two of them passively. Quickly surrounding them were three more people, all with weapons drawn. 

George squinted at the one who had spoken, eyes widening when it clicked. _The friend of that Tommy guy who bumped into Bad_. It felt like such a distant memory at this point, having spent the whole day wandering aisle after aisle. 

He also spotted the ‘Tommy’ guy among the other three, sporting a mad grin. 

The remaining two were unfamiliar to him, but daunting nonetheless. One had strikingly orange hair, dressed in some kind of uniform. The other was dressed much more casually, donning a beanie and a dark blue jacket. Despite their difference in fashion taste, they made an intimidating duo. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be making any more purchases. If you could, please, just hand over that bag…” the leader spoke again, holding a hand out expectantly. 

George and Bad froze, staring at the characters closing in around them, cutting off their exits. “Bet you wish I bought that sword now, huh?” George muttered sarcastically. 

Bad ignored him. “Okay, hey, no need for all that,” he said, trying to appease them, eyeing their weapons. “Yeah, we’ll just hand this over, and, um—,”

George’s mind raced. If they handed over one bag, the assailants would want to search through the rest of their stuff. If they found George’s bag of gold, then they were _really_ out of luck. They wouldn’t have the _one_ thing Dream really needed for this quest. George was _not_ about to swim another hundred feet down for a stupid treasure chest, and he was _not_ about to disappoint Dream.

Snapping his head around, he grabbed the brewing stand like a bat and swung it as hard as he could, screaming like his life depended on it. The force of the blow reverberated through his arms, sending shock waves through his shoulders. 

The leader collapsed to the ground, out cold. 

Everyone froze.

The whole market held its breath.

George broke first. With one hand, he snatched up the abandoned blaze powder, still clutching tight to the brewing stand, and with the other, Bad. “ _GO_ ,” he screeched, yanking Bad along and leaping over the unconscious figure on the ground. 

“ _WILBUR_ ,” Tommy yelped, distraught, while the other two leapt to the chase. 

“ _You bring that back!_ ” the hag screeched. “ _Thieves! They stole from me!_ ”

 _So she screams for thieves and not for muggers_ , George growled subconsciously. 

“George!” Bad huffed, pumping his legs to keep up. “What are we doing?”

“Not _dying_!” 

George couldn’t hear him if he responded. They dodged around market patrons, leaving more than a few people frazzled and with dropped goods. People shouted as they passed, but they didn’t slow down for a second. They couldn’t afford to. 

Vaguely, George registered passing Sammy’s stall, hearing him cackling. 

They burst out of the alley, drawing a few stares and shouts of surprise, but they didn’t slow. George swerved and shot back down the way they came. 

_Oh god_ , he thought frantically. _Where did we come from? We’ve been all over this fucking market._

“Go left!” Bad shouted from behind him, and George was flooded with momentary relief. Of course Bad would remember how to get back, the angel. 

The relief didn’t last long. George glanced over his shoulder, finding their pursuers not far behind. If they were anything, they were determined. 

He stumbled on an unseen rock, breaking stride for the first time. His breath caught heavily in his throat, nearly choking him. Bad snatched his arm from behind, hauling him back upright. George didn’t look back again. 

He let Bad take the lead, following his wild, nearly-nonsensical directions. People around them shouted in warning and alarm, helpfully clearing the path ahead of them. 

George’s eyes watered, and he tried to blink them clear. The dust being kicked up around them lodged in his throat, but he couldn’t cough. 

Finally, he spotted something familiar. Some _one_ familiar. Sapnap was stood, leaning against one of the stalls, laughing. Someone in a very colorful hoodie was propped beside him, laughing along, but George didn’t worry about them. 

“ _Sapnap_!” he shouted, pace never faltering as they pounded closer. 

Sapnap snapped to attention, looking around wildly until his eyes landed on George and Bad racing toward him. 

“Go, go, go, go!” George screeched. At the same time, someone behind him shouted, “ _Karl!_ Stop them, stop them!”

The man in the colorful hoodie stood in front of them suddenly, arms out as though he could catch them. George hefted the brewing stand, prepared to bash another motherfucker, but Sapnap beat him to it. He swept his leg under Karl, knocking him on his ass, before he fell into step beside George and Bad.

“Sorry, Karl!” he called over his shoulder. 

“It’s okay!” a voice shouted back, not sounding upset in the least. 

They finally burst out of the market, dodging around the people milling at the entrance. George’s eyes zeroed in on their little rowboat, docked peacefully at the pier. He glanced over his shoulder, spotting their three assailants barging out of the entrance after them, pausing and glancing around. The one with the orange hair spotted them first, pointing and shouting to his companions. 

“C’mon, c’mon!” Sapnap shouted, pulling ahead. 

Their feet thundered on the wooden docks, barely skidding to a stop before they passed their boat entirely. 

“Get in, get in, get in,” Sapnap chanted, already kneeling to untie their rope from the post. 

George vaulted into the little rowboat, sending it rocking furiously, before Bad followed suit. George grabbed his arms to steady him, looking to Sapnap. He yanked at the rope, trying to pull it free. Dread filled George’s veins. It was stuck. 

“Sapnap, what are you _doing_?” George cried, looking past him. The three muggers were growing rapidly nearer.

Sapnap bared his teeth. “Fuck it!” he snarled, yanking out his knife. George was worried he was going to turn on the men before he quickly slashed the rope and gave the boat a mighty shove. He backed up a step, then vaulted forward, barely landing in the drifting rowboat. George and Bad caught him, clinging tight to his arms. 

“Go, go!” Sapnap yelled, shaking them off. He grabbed an oar, and George hurriedly grabbed the other. 

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

George snapped his head around, relief flooding through him. “Dream!” he cried. “Help us, quickly, quickly! We’ve got to get away!” He gestured vaguely back to the men on the dock behind them. 

Dream’s eyes flickered rapidly between the rowboat, the men, and their ship in the distance, before he disappeared under the water. 

“I _meant_ , give us a push, idiot!” George yelled after the ripples, but they didn’t respond. 

All at once, shrieks of shock and terror erupted behind them, before they were suddenly cut off with a splash. George whipped around. 

A large portion of the dock was missing, along with two of the three assailants. The third, Karl, windmilled his arms frantically to keep from falling into the sudden gap in the dock. Dream was also nowhere to be seen.

The remaining two men resurfaced, spluttering, from the brine at the same time that Dream appeared behind the boat, huge grin on his face. 

“Okay, let’s go!” he shouted, setting his hands on the back of the boat and starting to push. 

George let a small smile find its way onto his face, beginning to relax at last. 

“Come again sometime!” a distant voice called, and George looked back a final time to see Karl waving at them, friendly as can be, while the other two pulled themselves back out of the water. 

From the corner of his eye, George watched Sapnap smile and wave back. 

“What did you guys _do_?” Dream shouted over the rushing of the waves on the little boat. 

“We, um,” George giggled, “we might have knocked out someone? That was trying to mug us?”

“We?” Bad called, looking up from sorting through his bag. “ _You_!”

A thin, wheezy laugh pierced the air, and the boat slowed marginally. George hunched his shoulders in mock-embarrassment, cheeks lighting up pink. 

“You also straight-up _stole_ that brewing stand!” Bad added. 

George crossed his arms, smile still firmly in place. “I stole it in self defense! And besides, it worked out!”

“Yeah,” Sapnap agreed, leaning forward, “just minus that whole chase and dock-crashing thing.”

George waved his hand flippantly. “Details, details.”

They slowed, having reached where _Muffin_ was anchored. George looked back at the island behind them. The market, once seemingly spanning for miles, was just a blur on the shore. He shook his head, grabbing the hand that Sapnap offered him and hauling himself aboard their trusty ship. 

He looked down to find Dream staring right back at him, a little grin settled permanently on his face. 

“So,” George said, “what’s next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello hi!!!! its been too long :( im really bad with update schedules, unfortunately. but this chapter is here now!!! and its officially my longest one yet oop--
> 
> also smp boys cameo pog? smallest whiff of karlnap pog? unfortunately these arent gonna be central characters at all, sorry i made them the bad guys for this chapter ajsdkfls. love them tho
> 
> so thank you for reading!!! and if you're back after the long wait, thank you for staying with me!!! i know my schedule can be. tedious. to stay with. so thank you for believing!!! i promise, i AM going to finish this story. it's all plotted in my head, i've just got to write it. 
> 
> so thank you!! all your comments and kudos are amazing!!! also jsyk i have 69 bookmarks right now ahahaa everyone laugh its the funni number ajsdkfl n e way. see you next time!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> there's a slight chance i could continue this if the inspiration strikes me, so leave a comment or kudos if you liked it! let me know what you think! i thrive off them!


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